the Lost Child (III)
by LaMarwy
Summary: Robert and Cora are ready to face their new life with baby Mary and Michael. All seems fine, but is it? The curse has only just begun. {Part of the "Young!Cobert Horror" serie – Third out of three stories, sequel to "9 steps" & "Dangerous Games" - rating will increase} Some secrets are better left unsaid. ON HOLD
1. the beginning

Last story of the Young!Cobert horror trilogy (in order): "Dangerous Games", "9 Steps", "the Lost Child".

Brief Summary of the previous stories:  
 _It was fate or just misfortune? When Cora and Robert were just a newlywed couple, something evil entered their lives unexpectedly; yet those dark times lead to a blessed event: the birth of their children, Mary and Michael. Something, however, is still not right. Is someone in danger? The story of the Crawley twins.. and the secrets that are impossible to forget._

Beta: CountessCora.

Trailer available on my YouTube channel: syriana94

Horror, mystery, angst and romance. Is there going to be a happy ending for everybody?  
Hope you like it, _enjoy_!

* * *

 **THE LOST CHILD**

Chapter 1 - The Beginning

Robert slowly climbed up the stairs, the cold air and gloomy light of the first week of February bathed the whole house into a lethargic atmosphere. But no one could embrace it. Only about ten days ago, the grand manor of Downton Abbey witnessed the birth of the two children of the Viscount and Viscountess, better known at the village as the grandchildren of the Count and Countess of Grantham.

There had been days of celebrations and countless flowers and wooden toys sent to the manor from all the happy citizens, which only increased the pride of the new parents. They hadn't yet taken the traditional carriage ride through the village with the newborns garishly held by the eldest member of the family, but the people already loved the twins dearly and everyone celebrated as if a brother was born or a daughter, or a niece... Everyone felt a deep connection to the twins, like it had always been with a newborn of the Crawley family. It had been so with Robert and with Rosamund too, so Robert didn't expect anything different for his children.

Cora was surprised, still not completely familiar with all the traditions yet. The happiness of having such a dear and large family she didn't know she had, warmed her heart. Finally she felt like she had done something right. She finally belonged to something and to the community, who accepted her and celebrated her because she provided a male heir on her first try, proving even the great Violet herself wrong. She had shown everyone that even a fragile American could do everything as a perfect English girl would have done.

Robert was proud of her, not only because she did all that but mostly because she finally felt at peace with herself. Cora found the strength to fight everything and everyone and finally sparkled like the most beautiful star of happiness and pride. Whenever she carried her children in her arms, protecting those little bundles that one day would become the king and the queen of a loving kingdom of green hills and yellow dandelions.  
He loved how their minds raced, embraced in bed, late at night, dwelling on variety of futures with their little ones attending the best schools, being happy and important, learning how to walk on their own and maybe leaving home to fulfill their dreams.

Robert sighed, placing his foot on the last step, his hand still gripped on the railing.

He liked to guess what was happening inside their bedroom each time he paid visits during the day, by relying on the noises he could hear from the inside... soft gurgles or keen cries that promptly faded away, replaced with hums and melodious lullabies. Robert sometimes just stood behind the door with his ear pressed on the wood, to hear, imagine, and foretaste that stunning picture he would have in front of him once inside.

That day, in fact, he didn't break his little routine.

Robert had taken advantage of the short break in the middle of his morning, usually occupied by a stroll with his wife or tea in the library with the whole family – Patrick's usual – to take a walk upstairs, something he'd learnt to do since the birth of his children.

Cora had refused to hire a nanny yet, which was what everyone expected. The complaining hadn't been much. It also convinced Robert to keep both babies in their room for few months, so things could be easier for her.  
Robert, of course, agreed without hesitation.

However, he couldn't help but feeling a little sorry for Cora, always alone in their room, day and night. She didn't complain. On the contrary, she wore the everlasting smile that made his heart skip a beat. Yet he didn't feel completely right about Cora doing everything alone, so every time it was possible, he joined her to help out or simply keep her company for a while. He loved to admire their babies and that was exactly the plan for that day as well.

He gently knocked on the door and waited patiently for a few instants before realizing he had been too gentle and nobody inside heard him. He smiled and grabbed the handle, slowly pushing the door and peeking inside.

"May I come in?" He whispered.

For a moment, his eyes wandered around the room, trying to adjust from the light of the morning to the dim light in which bathed the entire room.  
There was a perpetual semi-darkness inside, as the windows were covered by curtains that let only few spots of sun pass inside the room. The curtains were never moved, whether it was a sunny day or a rainy one. They were only opened at night, when the darkness couldn't hurt anyone.

The doctor wasn't sure about the strange condition of Michael, first with his white eyes and then when he gave everyone a big fright, the same day of his birth, in the wee hours: when his crib had been touched by a soft sunbeam, he started to cry from pain. His eyes and skin turned red, as if something had burned him. The doctor decided that he suffered from a light sensitivity that would eventually heal with the growth. In the meanwhile, the light around him was strictly monitored. Everything brighter than few candles or a fire in the mantel on the opposite side of him was severely forbidden.

"Of course, but be quiet. Michael is sleeping." When Cora spoke, he finally could see her.

She was pacing between the two windows. From Robert's position, he could only get a small look at her profile: her purple dress that smoothed her body, her combed hair, her gracious nose and chin slightly bent down, toward the bundle of crème blanket that rested in her arms.

Even if Cora spent her days in that room, only coming up and down from the stairs for her meals, she woke up early in the morning to get ready and demanded to be dressed and brushed up as if a guest was coming to Downton. The others didn't quite understand this decision of hers, but deep inside he knew she wanted to be at her best for the children, and he adored that.

"How's Mary today?" He murmured, his voice full of mirth as he approached his wife, the door silently closed at his shoulders.

"Better." Cora answered, her voice calm.

The baby girl had gone through some rough times as well. When she and her brother were still in the womb, they apparently fought for space and Mary was the one who succumbed. She didn't have any serious illnesses but she was small. During her first days in the world, she had trouble with breathing properly and eating enough. However, she improved a little more every day, with intensive care from the whole family. Of course, there wasn't a day without a careful visit from the doctor.

Even if Cora was the most fatigued after the strenuous and stormy months of pregnancy and the nearly traumatic birth, she was the only one who had come through all of it unharmed and now she boasted a vigorous energy and joy that could fill the whole of Yorkshire. She was the proudest and happiest mother Robert had ever seen. Speaking of her beauty, she sparkled a little more every day, not though just her eyes, but her whole body gave off a curious aura of positivity and serenity.

"Very well." He said lastly, joining Cora and holding both wife and daughter in his arms, his chest pressed on her back and their fingers tangled over the blanket.

Mary's few hairs were dispersed in all directions above her tiny head. Her eyes were closed and her little chubby lips were parted, letting the tip of her baby tongue stick out between them. On the hem of her blanket, a little fist was visible, so small that it was only able to enclose Cora's pinky finger.

"She ate twice this morning and now she's about to sleep. All on her own." Cora stated proudly. It was a victory for them, especially when they'd spent the previous day begging the newborn to sleep after a whole afternoon of crying, involving everyone who had a suggestion, until at some point, when both Cora and Robert were lying unceremoniously here and there in the house to get some needed rest, Carson stood up and rocked the baby to sleep. Everyone was stunned, even Violet and Martha, who were battling over whether it was better to moisten Mary's lips with brandy or whiskey.

"That's quite an improvement." Robert said, putting on a silly face even if the baby couldn't see him.

"I didn't hear you leaving this morning." She almost sang those words, her body swinging smoothly as she rocked Mary.

Robert rested his nose beside her ear, puffing warm air on her skin as his whole body accompanied hers with a soft motion.  
"You were all sleeping so soundly, darling." He smiled at the memory. "I kissed you but you didn't move a bit. The twins, too. Besides, you needed some sleep."

"Well, at the moment, I just need some air and some adult conversation." She laughed softly and kissed the baby's forehead, to check if her slumber was actually deep enough to put her down into the crib. When she decided it was time, she paced to the crib, laying the baby next to her brother in the big, white cradle.

Robert and Cora stood for a long moment in perfect silence, watching their babies sleep soundly one next to the other. If Mary seemed fragile and needing protection, they couldn't say the same for Michael. He exceeded his sister by a whole foot, maybe more. His limbs were strong and active when he was awake. In fact, he often kicked the air and screamed for no reason, while the teeny tiny thing that was his sister was quite content with lying here and there, mostly in her mother's arms – since the doctor said that the closeness between the two could help the little one to develop just right – looking at everything surrounding her with a quiet curiosity.

"Seems the perfect time." He stole a kiss from his wife, turning to the bed, he pulled the string to calling Cora's ladies' maid, O'Connor. "Even if..."

Cora turned sharply to him, sighing as a reply to the eloquent look on his face.

"I do not need a nanny, yet." She said promptly, in the loudest whisper she managed to produce. "When they're older, I'll be the first one to ask. But for now, we're doing just fine. Any maid or footman can watch two sleeping babies for a couple of hours, not that I would ever leave them for such a long time, now." Cora sighed again, placing her hand on Robert's upper arms. "Please. When the time comes, I'll know it." Cora gave him a look that meant he needed to trust her. Robert did, like he always did. After all, they had discussed the matter in the previous days. Frankly, he couldn't expected her to change her mind within seventy-two hours.

"Alright, I won't bother you anymore on the subject." He yielded, cupping her face in his hand.

"Thank you." She pecked a kiss on his palm and brushed the back of his hand with her fingers.

She wasn't sure of anything she was doing, but she trusted her maternal instinct. However, she trusted her fears too, in a certain sense, making her think about the worst scenarios ever involving her little ones, starting with lights or a dying fire that could transformed the room into a deadly trap. Or a dropped candle on the curtain, a simple cold that could threatened the babies' lives.

She wanted Mary and Michael to be supervised at every moment and she wanted to be the one who did that for the majority of the time. To be honest, the only person she trusted as much as herself was Robert.

"Milady?" The muffled voice of Evaleen made them both startle as their mouths bent simultaneously into embarrassed grins.

"Come in." Cora spoke gracefully, smiling at the woman who entered the room an instant later. She gestured for the maid to close the door quickly, which was readily obeyed.

"How can I help you, Milady?" She was carrying some baby dresses. From their appearances, they seemed like old clothing that had been worn by Robert and Rosamund. The maid also carried a wooden box and some other things that Cora couldn't identify.

"Could you watch the children for a while?" Cora showed Evaleen the rocking chair by the cradle. "They're soundly sleeping and they won't need to be fed for a couple of hours, I believe. There shouldn't be any problem. And we will be in the library."

The maid stared nervously at the both of them, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.  
"Milady-"

"What's the matter, O'Connor?" Cora's voice had became a little harsh in a matter of seconds and that change spurred Evaleen to answer straight away.

"Lady Grantham asked me to mend these old clothes and I can't do it here... it's-" O'Connor bit her lower lip as she was afraid to speak further. To be fair, Cora got very personal when someone criticized her room's arrangements or her decision on the best way to keep her children safe and sound. And the last thing Evaleen wanted was to get on Cora's nerves.

" _It's_ what?" Cora urged her.

"It's too dark." She finally added in a very small voice.

Robert's soft touch on her wife's shoulder didn't help at all when Cora replied harshly to her maid.

"I always embroider here. This soft light doesn't bother me so it shouldn't bother you, since on this depends the life of my son, your master, O'Connor." She was utterly irritated and didn't care to hide it. The maid stared at her in silence with the look of a rabbit which was just been caught by the fox. "You can drag the chair near the mantel if you want, but you will do as required and you'll watch over the children, without a word. Have I made myself clear?"

"Of course, Milady." O'Connor said shyly. "My apologies."

Cora scolded her one more time with her fiery glance. Once assured neither of the babies had been awakened by the noise, she followed Robert out to the corridor, looking at the brighter light outside as if she hadn't seen it in years. She breathed deeply, grabbing the handrail with her right hand and shifting her left one under her husband's arm.

"You've been a little harsh." Robert commented with a half smile, remembering the times during her pregnancy when she was completely irritated and everyone tried not to cross paths with her. He'd always found that funny but also disturbing when he was the one she blamed. He remembered also feeling miserable when was scolded by that woman who was always the portrait of graciousness and kindness turned into a hell's beast.

Cora looked straight into his face with a mortified look, stopping for an instant on the stairs.  
"Was I?" She asked, her heart clenching a bit. "Well-" She sighed. "I cannot tolerate this. The children need special treatments and everyone needs to cooperate, especially in these early times."

Robert nodded, urging her to restart their slow walk.

"You're right. But O'Connor is very sensitive, she'll keep apologizing for everything for days, poor soul. Letting you down is her worst nightmare." He chuckled a little, thinking about how those words could've been easily applied to himself and to his behaviour whenever something happened between him and his wife.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes. "I will apologize later for being rude."

"That's you again." He chuckled contagiously and gave her a quick kiss on her reddened cheek.

* * *

A few rooms away, the library had been designated as the theatre of an unexpected disarmed crossfire, run by words, duties, pride and simple and genuine will of getting on the nerves of some dear old enemy.

And hence there they were: Martha, Cora's mother, in her brown dress with a fur shawl, comfortably seated upon the red couch with her tea in her hand, facing the unquestioned queen of the house, Violet, who was sitting on the opposite couch in a high-collar blue dress, her right fingers grasping the porcelain cup handle while the other hand clenched stiffly on the couch's arm, her nails digging into the fabric, telling things her face couldn't show. Patrick, who pretended to be ignorant of the situation, was at the desk, sipping his hot tea and brushing his finger right after to dry his damp mustache.

He couldn't deny that the bickering between the two women amused him, but he needed to play his part of the bothered husband and house's master whenever someone caught him in the act of staring, listening or enjoying the conflicts.

Anyway, the issue of the daily fight was an important one, he couldn't say otherwise. But deep inside he knew that intervening without the remaining two members of the family was totally useless. No one else seemed to notice Robert and Cora's absence. Patrick started to think that the matter of the discussion was as crucial to them as any other thing that Martha and Violet would argue.

"You Americans, always ignoring traditions!" hissed Violet at some point after a long pause of peaceful silence.

Patrick rolled his eyes but no one noticed him.

"You forget what the real needs are!" Martha readily replied. "This is not about traditions and duties, it's about-"

"It's _exactly_ about duties!" Yelled the countess, almost dropping her cup, which she wisely decided to put it on the nearby table to avoid any damages.

"Ah!" The red-haired woman put her cup on the table as well and emphasized her speech. "And you would put your only grandson in danger just for your stupid tradition and duties? You know the poor boy can't stand the day's light, taking him into the carriage for your big fanfare stroll could kill him. Just like that!" She snapped her fingers together and Violet startled, her eyes fixed on the woman's fingers, thinking how unladylike and rough the movements of her hands were.

"Not him, perhaps when his condition will be resolved." The countess nodded concisely. "I was talking about the girl."

"That poor thing just got used to the world!" Martha yelled back in shock. "It's February, it's damn England and it's cold outside, it could be fatal for Mary!" The woman stressed the name with force, for she knew how much it bothered Violet that her own son had selected an unusual name for his daughter, it had nothing of the traditional English name, nor a distant relative with the same one that could justify his choice. But it was not as much a departure as the jewish Michael, which was overlooked easily because of the baby's gender.

"Everyone must sacrifice a little for the greater good." Violet spoke with low voice that allowed no reply. "She's born a Crawley. She has duties, as do her brother and her parents. It's to claim of the village to see the little ones and we shall give them what they want. It's a little joy for the peasants."

" _Peasants_?" Martha raised an eyebrow. "Do you realize you're not exactly the queen...?" She asked ironically, thinking how much the nickname of 'the empress' she gave her on the first visit during Cora's season, fit her perfectly.

Violet scoffed, utterly irritated by that last comment, while Martha was gloating inside.  
"Patrick! Say something!" She squealed.

"What, dear?" He slowly lifted his head as though he hadn't been affected at all by their dispute, which made Violet even more irked.

It was in that moment that the door flew open, welcoming Robert and Cora inside the library. They were peaceful, happily chatting as Cora's hand firmly grabbed her husband's sleeve. But when they paid their greetings, their smile instantly faded away. It was clear that their mothers had been arguing.

"What happened this time?" Robert inquired with a loud sigh, letting himself fall on the third couch as he dragged an exasperated Cora with him.

"Ask the empress!" squealed Martha, hitting the couch with her hand, covering the mouse of the irritated snort that escaped Violet's lips. But Violet said nothing more. Maybe she had begun to think wisely regarding Martha for the first time, understanding that it was better to stay silent than to produce a fight that it would have been impossible to mend.

"The queen of Sheba has spoken." Violet muttered beneath her breath, biting her tongue. Didn't American women carry the power in their hands? She herself was the one in charge of Patrick – Martha could have easily persuaded Cora to travel back to their home along with the children, of course, and Violet didn't want that.

"Mother?" Robert's voice was flat and annoyed. He and Cora both knew that their mothers didn't get along very well and often they caused a battle that involved the whole family for days, making everyone frustrated and cold until the two silently decided that it was over. Then the family found them peaceably playing some card game. Robert wished he had the power to skip the conversation and jump to the point of awkwardness where everyone looked at Martha and Violet with foolish eyes as if they were witnessing a real miracle.

"Robert," Violet took a deep breath. "I just mentioned our traditional carriage ride for the children, and- and-" The woman took on an innocent look, fidgeting a little on the couch and turned her head to her son, so that Martha was left out of her visual field. "She assaulted me!"

"Ah!" The red haired woman faked a laugh. "I just want the children to be safe." Her fired eyes ran between Robert and Cora, who suddenly found themselves in the middle of the crossfire. "We all know that Michael can't go outside and that Mary, poor thing, is fragile as a feather! Am I not right?"

There was a long pause of deafening silence.

Martha was most certainly right, but Violet's will and thoughts were hard to change. No one had ever tried to go against her, either fearing the consequences or simply resigning to an assured defeat. Yet the price would be too high, their children dead in the name of a tradition better to be postponed to a brighter and steadier period.

"I'm afraid that Martha is right," Robert announced in a small voice. "This time." He added shortly after, heartened by the softer hold of Cora's on his upper arm. So far it had been painfully hard, fearing the decision that could affect which their children's lives.

"Robert, you can't be serious." Violet was clearly shocked. "It can bring bad luck to our family." She hissed gravely.

"Bad luck?" Robert raised his voice a bit. "We've been through enough to say that something like 'bad luck' doesn't exist. Besides, I highly prefer having two living children to take out when the time comes, than to have two deceased children who succumbed because of some old tradition no one cares about anymore. Our people are content to know that Downton has an heir, they will understand... maybe they're more understanding than you'll ever be."

"Robert!" Violet tried to call her son back to order, but was unsuccessful. She was burning inside for showing Martha than even she didn't have the control over the perfect, well trained English Lord.

"I will discuss the matter no more, Mama." He sighed heavily and stood up from the couch, then helped Cora to do the same. "The children will not leave Downton before I allow it, and I won't allow it until they will be perfectly healthy and fine, according to the doctors, Cora and myself."

Despite his harsh and bold manners, his grip on Cora's hand was soft and reassuring as he led her to the door.

Cora didn't dare to speak, but knew she shared every single word he'd said. She still felt a strong fear of arguing with Violet. Whenever possible, she let Robert speak for her. It wasn't that she had to beg him to do so, for he defended and fought for his wife every time it was necessary.

"I knew that they would have shown some common sense." Martha's soft and gloating comment filled the air like a sharp blade.

"Stop this at once." Cora sharply turned back and looked at her mother with a fierce gaze. Martha wasn't used to being scolded with such boldness, no less from her calm and gentle daughter, and she found herself incapable of speaking. She looked up at Cora with a guilty face she strived to hide. "They are _our_ children, mine and Robert's. What concerns their lives is none of your business." Cora swallowed, lowering her eyes but not her voice, her cheeks reddened. Her last words were addressed to both Martha and Violet, but she turned just slightly to the latter, fearing a killing glance that could have made her fall.

"Quite right." Martha's voice was just a whisper, which, however, carried the struck note of the hurt and defeat. "Well, well, after all I'll be leaving tomorrow and I don't think anyone will ever need my help to sort things out."

"Mother-" Cora's voice cracked a little, concerned that she might have gone too far.

"I'm of little use here, dear. I'd better be going back home." Her eyes were of a pale shade of blue and they shone like glass.

Cora's heart was clenching but she said nothing, Robert's hold on her hand suggested she leave things as they were. After all, she herself knew how good their mothers both were at faking hurt, making everyone feel guilty just to be back on the pedestal and leave the battlefield as nothing but winners.

But not this time.

"All right." The pragmatic voice of Cora almost sounded foreign to herself. She left Robert for just one minute, stepping next to the couch where her mother sat to kiss her on the cheek with a small smile across her rosy lips. "But you've been of great help."

Martha smiled and slightly nodded, her resentment fading away quickly. Violet was also growing calmer with her tea in her hand, a few feet away. It was clear to everyone that the matter would have been brought up again only when Cora or Robert would choose to do so.

Patrick peeked from the upper edge of his paper, his knowing smile hidden behind the white pages, the next generation of earls blooming before his eyes.

* * *

"That was hard."

The library dour closed behind them. Cora and Robert peacefully headed to the first step of the staircase in front of them, hand in hand, the thrill of the argument still rushing through their veins, their hearts pumping hard against their ribs.

They had won an important battle together. They had both stood successfully against their tumultuous mothers. Deep inside, they could feel something changing; they felt more grown, somehow. Maybe for the first time they had the reins secured between their own fingers. They had chosen the best for their children, breaking the rules another time and nothing on Earth felt better in that moment.

"It's just the beginning, my darling." Robert smiled lovingly at his wife, who readily returned the affectionate glance.

"We did right, didn't we?"

Robert nodded reassuringly, patting his palm over her hand as her fingers began to clench around his arm.

"Of course. We have duties to respect and the most important ones are towards our children." He looked up for a moment, toward the bedroom where his children were soundly sleeping. "We brought them into this world and now we have to protect them at all costs. This is our priority."

Cora smiled, her heart light as a feather as she heard the words from her husband's lips, so similar, if not exact, to the words she would have said.  
She was the Viscountess and her husband the Viscount but in that moment she couldn't see herself or her husband as anything but a mother and a father concerned for their children. They most certainly did right. After all, they both knew that no one, upstairs or downstairs, would ever hurt the little ones. Not on purpose.

The emptiness, along with the silence in the upper corridor, swallowed them into a pacific yet tense universe of wide open doors, spewing bright beams of light onto the red carpet at regular ranges, all around the squared indoor balcony, except for a longer space of darkness on the west side.

Both Cora and Robert often felt a strange feeling when approaching the room. They stood silent, like always, to not disturb the babies, probably still asleep in their cradles.

No sound came to them.

No familiar sound to welcome them... not a cry, an infant laugh, nor an innocent or meaningless whine.

They heard a muffled sound, a distant cough that hooked their hearts into a steel grasp.

Before they could even recognize it, they were running toward the bedroom, the worst parent's nightmare awaiting them.

The door flew open and Robert burst into the room followed by a panting Cora, terror spreading into her soul. Their eyes struggled to adjust to the dim light once the door had been closed once again.

"O'Connor! O'Connor!" Robert was yelling, walking around the room as a restless beast in its cage, the frightful and unknown noise stinging his ears.

The first thing he saw was the maid, lying asleep in the rocking chair.

He clenched his jaw, giving a hellish growl as his strong hand went to grasp her shoulder, shaking the woman violently until she woke up.

Her eyes reflected a note of pure terror. She was clearly disoriented and seemed on the edge of crying copious tears. Evaleen did not know how that could have happened; the last thing she remember was sewing the little white dress for her little mistress.

"Milord-" She stuttered. "Milord I'm so sorry-"

"Get away!"

The fear and the wrath blinding him, he almost did not wait for her to be completely standing to toss the rocking chair away, allowing better access to the cradle.

What had the most normal appearance, in truth, hid the fatal balance of a life hanging by a thread.

The white teddy bear, usually put in the middle of the cradle to keep the babies separated, had fallen down. Michael had shifted in his sleep, like he usually did whenever possible, thanks to his strong limbs, much stronger than any other newborn. He ended up invading his sister's space, pushing the tiny girl against the pillow. Mary's face was almost totally buried between the cotton folds, her fists waving in the air with a raging vigour, moving like she had never have before.

Fear struck their hearts.

Robert was quick enough to scoop the baby boy in his arms, yet his thoughts and concern were to address Mary.

"Cora?" He yelled, anxious, unwillingly waking Michael, whose keen cries easily covered the girl's fatigued wheezes.

Cora's trembling arms were holding the tiny bundle that was Mary, tears rolling down her cheeks as she sang and rocked the baby, trying to calm her down.

Robert's mind was full of worries. After her lungs being too small for days and her learning how to breathe properly despite all, Mary was doing just fine, and now...

"Robert-" Her voice cracked.

"How's Mary?" He asked frantically, rocking Michael with odd movements.

"She's not breathing." She sobbed, her left hand pressed against the baby's back, which readily shifted up to support her head. For a terrible moment, Mary's bent horribly down as if her body was lifeless. "She's not breathing well." She said again, her voice high, full of despair.

"O'Connor!" He managed to balance Michael on his right arm, using his free hand to gripped the maid's wrist. "Open the curtains and the windows! She needs fresh air!"He ordered.

Evaleen stood still for an instant that felt like an eternity.

How could Milord have ordered something that the master's life depended on? Milady would have most certainly killed her. She shifted her unquiet glance between the fury of her master and the heartbreaking despair of her mistress, wondering what she could have done to cause all of that. She felt guilty. Maybe she was guilty and yet still so powerless.

"Milord-" The cry of the baby boy and the cry of Cora melted in one disturbing sound that would haunt Evaleen's dreams for a long time. An innocent baby screaming and a mother almost facing the death of her child.

She saw Robert covering the baby boy under his jacket.  
Evaleen knew it wouldn't be enough to protect him from the deadly light. The fabric was too thin, sunbeams would pass through it.

"Open the curtains. Now!"

* * *

Note1: The OCs are Evaleen O'Connor (Cora's maid) and Michael Henry Crawley, the only characters I own. _  
_Note2: some aspects of this story are inspired from the 2001 movie "The Others", by Alejandro Amenábar.

I missed this dark atmosphere, did you? Sorry for the little cliffhanger, but I had to have one for the first chapter.. I just couldn't resist the temptation.  
Stay tuned for the next chapter: "Lullaby".

If you have time, **leave a feedback please** , thank you! :)


	2. lullaby

NdA: **Happy Easter** to everyone, if you don't celebrate it, happy Sunday anyway!

Thank you all for the support, even though it's a peculiar story. Deep gratitude to those who followed and Favorited, but most of all to those who reviewed: Alice, Countess of Cobert and Dream of Ragtime.  
Also, thanks to my wonderful beta CountessCora.

I know it's a short one, but the updates will be richer each time, so worry not.  
That said, _enjoy_!

 _W_ _hen the wind blows,  
the cradle will rock.  
When the bough breaks,  
the cradle will fall, _  
_and down will fall baby,_  
 _c_ _radle and all_ _..._

* * *

Chapter 2 - Lullaby

"No, you can't! You can't open the curtains!" Cora moved quickly in front of the window, stopping the maid from walking closer to it. She couldn't allow the maid to let the sun in.  
In a cold, practical and insensitive thought, she realized she could've never put her son's life in danger for any reason, even to the disadvantage of her own daughter.

"In the dressing room, quick!" Robert gestured to the door that joined the rooms together.

Cora felt her heart shrinking painfully out of guilt. She couldn't explain why her mind was stuck on Michael's health and that alone. Mary was so fragile and helpless, needing everyone's attention and care more than ever.

There was a pitter-patter of hurried feet rushing onto the carpet, with the feeble squeak of a door quickly opened and closed. Robert was left in the bedroom alone, in the darkness, staring at the wood with his crying son in his arms.  
He begged Michael to calm down as he he rocked and shushed the baby until he produced nothing more than soft gurgles. Robert's ears could finally focus on every little sound coming from the next room. Robert heard the curtains being brutally tossed aside before the window was opened. Now he could feel the colder air coming from the opening beneath the door.

"Come on, Mary." Robert whispered, pleading.  
He could heard muffled voices coming from the room but he couldn't understand a single word. He wasn't sure if it was Cora sobbing, talking to the baby or to the maid... or if it was O'Connor's voice, praying as she always did when the times were difficult, as she had done when Cora was delivering the twins.

Yet suddenly, every sound stopped and a more vehement breath of cool air escaped from the door into the bedroom.

"Cora?" He dared to ask, even if the fear of interrupting that awful silence felt like the most terrible of the sins. "Cora?" He raised his voice a bit.

Robert swallowed hard, his heart pumping blood through his veins in a painful manner. His eyes were still on the dividing door. For a moment, he desired that it never be opened. In that precise instant, his baby girl could be been dead or alive. His world was on the edge of falling, but for the moment, he was hanging in the balance.  
He forgot how to blink, going blind for a second when the door opened, letting a small amount of light into the room.

Michael fidgeting in his father's hold.

"She's fine." It was clear that Cora was smiling from her light voice. "She's fine." She repeated. This time, Robert could see her face, still damp and fresh from crying. But she wore a relieved smile, her eyes bright eyes and her breath panting as she'd been sobbing in fear since then.

"She is?" Robert's voice was just above a whisper.

He smiled at the sight of his baby daughter curled up on Cora's shoulder, the tip of her tiny nose eagerly pressed on her mother's neck, eyes closed and lips parted, puffing steady breaths.

Robert drew a relieved breath, all the dreadful thoughts slowly fading away.

"We might need another cradle." Cora was laughing, yet deep inside a terrible sense of anxiety took hold of her body. The boy was strong and impetuous and he was growing fast. What had begun as a reason for pride now scared her.

"Everything will be fine." Robert whispered, not sure if the words were for his wife or for himself. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to Cora's as his heartbeat returned to a normal pace.

Between the hold of her parents, little Mary fell asleep, exhausted, while her brother Michael curled his lips into a smile.

* * *

"Lady Mary is fine, her Ladyship." The doctor was smiling happily, his tools still in his left hand while with the other was rubbing the baby's back.

The little one seemed used to the procedure that she had been subjected for so long. The doctor listened to her lungs and measured her tiny body with care. She was fidgeting very little, maybe knowing that it would be over soon, only to be rewarded with staying long in her mother's embrace, the place that was most familiar and comforting.

"Totally fine?" Cora insisted, stretching her arms when the doctor finally put Mary, carefully wrapped in her white blanket, into her arms.

"Totally fine. You came in just in time." The doctor sighed, avoiding eye contact with the maid, who was already paralysed by guilt and terror regarding her future. "May I suggest keeping them apart?"

"We are already providing another cradle for Michael." Cora nodded. "And when they learn to sleep the whole night, we will move them into the nursery where two cribs are waiting for them. It's all settled."

"Very well." The man seemed to agree with everything Cora said. Still she wasn't completely sure if he was playing along because she was the Viscountess or just because the arrangements were, effectively, good enough for the babies.

"Can we do more?" Robert inquired, putting his hands on his wife's shoulders as she rocked Mary. He'd been silent until then, but he when doubt was still chewing at his soul, making him wonder if it had been just an unfortunate event or something darker that was coming upon their lives once again.

"Master Michael is growing stronger. Quickly." The doctor said blankly, an enigmatic smile upon his lips as he laid eyes on the cradle that held the boy.

"That's not good?" Robert inquired, noticing soon after he had spoken that the question might have sounded dumb. Any parent would be happy to hear that their child was growing fast and strong... as long as those words weren't accompanied by 'too much'.

"It's a good sign, of course." The doctor sighed, leaving his breath broken, as if he was about to say something.

"But?"

"If I hadn't witnessed his birth a few days ago with my own eyes, I would have never believed his age." He shook his head "Lady Mary looks perfectly fine now, maybe a little smaller than average, but a healthy newborn... while her brother-"

Three pair of eyes moved simultaneously to the bassinet, the other half of the sentence lost somewhere in time. But Cora and Robert tried to catch it with concerned minds and hopeful hearts. Was the doctor going to say that Michael was in danger again? Did they do something wrong? Had they not done enough?

"What's wrong with him?" Cora's voice was just a soft breath, barely audible.

Dr. Clarkson remained silent, his lips parted as his blue eyes were elusive as ever. He fidgeted like someone anxious, and it did nothing but increase Robert and Cora's fears.

"Nothing." He said but his voice was flat.

They both frowned, sharing a puzzled look and a stormy spirit, thirsty for knowledge and answers they might never get.

The parents had to witness the hurried excuse the doctor gave them, his rushed exit without more explanation in what looked like an escape.

Richard Clarkson jumped into his car, fixing his eyes on the manor's façade, particularly on the windows of the Countess' room. For some reason, his heart clenched in fright, making him fall silent when he thought of the newborn heir to Downton. He was born only ten days before and looked like a six month old. He smiled when no one was paying too much attention and hid his clear ability to sit – according to his already strong bones and muscles – and maybe he could do more.  
He had been an extraordinary baby since his birth, yet there was something terribly wrong alongside his wonders.  
It was something that Richard kept unsaid for a very long time, fearing the consequences of challenging the mystery of something that wished to remain in the dark. Whatever was going on behind those walls was beyond his help.  
He would have left things as they were, keeping an eye only over what he understood. But nothing more, he swore to himself as the carriage scrambled up the cobbled road that led to the black gate of Downton Abbey.

* * *

"Don't bother to walk me to the door, I know the way." Martha spoke with a weak and solemn voice as her fingers played over the little boy's blanket, lightly tickling his tummy.

The woman's maid packed her things and was ready to go without the expected anger or resentment toward Violet. The truth was that Martha enjoyed provoking her British enemy as much Violet liked to tease her. When big words and fights were involved, they both had to fake their hurt, yet deep inside they yearned for the next battle.

"Mother, I wish you would stay a little longer." Cora whispered as she stood next to Martha with a sorrowful expression, her chin low, over the babies' cradles.

"No, dear, you have to manage on your own." She replied, patting her daughter's shoulder with cold empathy. "You'll be a terrific mother, I know. Besides, the Empress needs to be the favourite granny."

"And you're fine with it?" Cora asked just above her breath, astonished by these words.

"Well," Martha shrugged her shoulders, "Of course I'll send them the best presents for Christmas and birthdays." She stated with a fake innocent glance that hid all the plans she already had in mind to make the children remember the overseas granny, too.

"Why must it always be about money with you, Mother?" Cora sighed loudly and rolled her eyes, knowing the dark of the room would conceal it.

"Because it is!" Martha squealed energetically, looking as if someone had offended her. Cora was about to reply but Martha cut her off. "Now," she put her hand on her daughter's shoulder, forcing her to turn to the door, "I must go."

"Goodbye, Mother." Cora whispered weakly, looking like a hopeless child. "Will you write?"

"Oh, pull yourself together, Cora." She kissed both her daughter's cheeks, giving her a quick hug before stepping closer to the door. "You're going to be the Countess, show the Empress who's in charge!" She commanded, giving her a strong squeeze on the arm. "And now go get some sleep, dear, you're pale as a sheet!" She said in a louder whisper, closing the door behind her back with a soft thud.

Cora stared at the door, sighing with desolation. Was she the one in charge? She had the feeling that her own mother was in charge over her, which was quite natural, but when she wasn't there, then Violet was the one in charge of the house and its management in general, of her life... and Cora sensed she, her lovely mother-in-law, would have been in charge for a very long time.

She sighed loudly, walking slowly to the cradles that held her sleeping babies. She touched each baby's hem, giving them a quick stroke and a gentle push to make them rock a little, before tucking the blankets around their bodies.

Michael and Mary were sleeping soundly, their lips parted and their long lashes trembling smoothly, a clear sign of the dreams that crowded their little heads.

Cora was wondering what kind of dreams they had when their world was a gloomy room with little to do. Maybe they were dreaming about herself and Robert, as they themselves used to do when late at night, when the dawn was about to come. Her mind raced toward their future as she imagined her twins running happily over the hills, riding their horses at their father's side, Mary's season, Michael's first love, their success and sorrow, the latter of which she would wipe away with a kiss.

What a wonderful life was waiting for their family. It was only a few obstacles away. Cora just had to be patient.

The twins would both heal eventually. With Robert's guidance and her teachings, they would become a man and a woman, a lord and a lady, envied, respected and loved by everyone.

She sighed, a proud and dreamy smile upon her lips as she crawled on top of the bed from the bottom to shift them to her side, since the babies had been settled right next to the bed. It was helpful to her at night when she needed to feed or change them.

Cora felt quite sad about her mother leaving so soon. But still she felt grown up. She had experienced the same emotions during other occasions, such as when she was presented at court a few years ago and after her wedding. It all seemed so near and yet so distant.

And now she was a mother, too.

All she'd dreamed of had come true. Her goals, as well as everything society expected from her, she'd provided. She now had everything she wanted, starting from her loving husband and ending with two beautiful children with their lives ahead of them.

Cora couldn't have been any happier. She couldn't have fallen asleep with a more peaceful soul.

She didn't know how much time had passed before a sharp noise made her startle.

Her eyes flew open, her heart jumped in her throat, fear spreading into her chest.

Cora moved on her knees toward the edge of the bed, her sight a little blurred, her ears ringing with a keen cry.

The first thing she saw was Mary's cradle. It was moving, rocking furiously like someone had pushed it with strength.

Cora grabbed the crib, a look of horror spreading over her face, her chest rising and falling to follow the pace of her fast breaths.

"Mary? It's all right, sweetheart." She hushed the girl without much success and just when her sight became clear again, she saw the cause of everything: Michael's cradle was knocked over on the floor. It was empty.

Cora's heart skipped a beat as she quickly pulled the crib up, her eyes wandering madly around the room.

How could a baby disappear like that? Did someone take him? Why the cradle was empty on the floor? Michael couldn't possibly just vanish!

It was then that she heard a soft gurgle, followed by a quick series of thuds, similar to a crawl. It came from underneath the bed.

How could that be?

Cora immediately knelt down, lifting the hem of the duvet so her eyes could see into the dark. She was sure she'd spotted something.  
"Michael?"

* * *

Weeeell what do you think it happened? Wait for the next chapter to find out: "Hide"!

If you have time, **leave a feedback please** , thank you! :)


	3. hide

NdA: Happy Weekend guys, here's the third chapter for this horror story! I'd like to thank all of the silent readers - you're A LOT more than I expected! - but most of all, my reviewers who always support me with kind words! Here's to Emma, granthamfan (darling, I can't wait to start your edits! Pls answeeeer ahah XD), witchoesed, Dream of Ragtime & Countess of Cobert.

And here's to **CountessCora** , without whom I wouldn't be here!

Also, for those who follow " _Expecto_ "... let's just say that you'd like to stick around ;)

Ok, ok enough talking. Turn off the lights and _enjoy_!

* * *

Chapter 3 – Hide

Cora stared into the dark with her mouth open in horror.  
She just wasn't looking at a child's shape under her bed... she couldn't, it was simply impossible.  
And yet that's what her eyes were showing her: a blurred tiny body, curled in on itself, pushed against the wall in the darkest corner. Its rounded head turned slowly and made two white sparkles dart in her direction.

Cora gasped loudly as she almost collapsed to the ground, her knees trembling beneath her, unable to support her weight. She continued to stare, holding her breath as a soft coo echoed in the room.

That couldn't be possibly Michael.

He was far bigger than she last saw him, before her quick nap. Besides, he couldn't have ever gotten there on his own.

But if that wasn't Michael, who was it? It had to be her baby, the same baby missing from the bassinet, the only baby – apart from Mary – living in the Abbey.  
What if he had tripped down from his cradle, rolling there? What if he was hurt?

"Michael?" Cora gasped. She heard her own voice crack as she rather tentatively stretched her hand out into the darkness, closing her fist almost as if she feared being bitten by an unknown beast. Why was her heart beating so fast? Why was her stomach clasped into such a grasp? She heard a sound coming from the figure at whom she was staring. Only her children responded to her voice like that when she called to them. They fidgeted and gurgled from their cradles as she approached, having just learned to recognize her by her voice as well as her smell and hold. It was magical and rare at their young age, but they had somehow done it.

She swallowed, moving carefully as her fingers explored the dark. But in the exact moment when she was sure she'd touched something soft like a cloth or a blanket, the door squeaked open. Then she saw a confusion of shadowed images rushing out of her sight as a hurried and scattered nickering filled her ears.

"Cora, what on earth are you doing?" Robert cried out worriedly, almost flying toward her and immediately kneeling down beside her.

She clenched his arms straight away, looking so lost and confused. Robert seriously feared for her.

"You let the door open!" Cora cried in horror, quivering as she unsteadily emerged from under the bed.

"It's just a crack, it won't hurt Michael." He replied frantically. "Is everything all right, Cora?" He asked, even though it was blatantly clear that everything was not all right. Still, he couldn't imagine what could be so terribly wrong that it would startle his wife this much... to have her on the floor only a few days after she had given birth. Cora was most likely still sore and she was supposed to be stress-free for the sakes of both her and the children.

"No, no!" She stuttered, her blue eyes wandering like mad around the dark room "You let him out!" She yelled desperately, her own words sounding so strange to her own ears as well.

"Let him out?" Robert frowned, pulling himself and his wife up in tow. "What are you talking about?"

"Michael!" Cora screamed, neither of sure if she was answering Robert or calling for their son.

In that precise moment, the door creaked open, letting in more light.

"Heavens!" He cursed, ready to close the door, but his wife's frantic movements told him to stop, to focus on her rather than on the unwanted light that was bathing the room.

"He's gone," Cora muttered as her hands roamed into Michael's bassinet, through the blankets, pillow and linens falling in balls on the floor. "He's gone." She repeated. The next minute, she sharply pivoted on her heels, ready to spin in the hallway.

"Cora, stop!" Robert blocked her, wrapping her from behind with his strong arms and preventing her from moving further. She tossed herself so hard that he had to fight to hold her still.

"Let go of me! I need to find him!" She screamed, a low growl coming from the bottom of her throat as copious tears started to stream down her face.

"Calm down, now!" Robert said, struggling to keep his voice down even if he wanted so much to scream louder than her to shush her illogical shrieks. "Where's Michael?" He asked firmly, sure that his wife was just having a nightmare or the after-effects of one... and that Michael was just in the nursery with O'Connor. Surely the maid had heard the baby cry when Cora was sleeping. After seeing that he was fine, the maid had decided to take him away to let his mother and sister rest. Surely it had gone that way.

"I told you he's gone, Robert!" Cora still was crying but with these words, she stirred, trying to escape his hold to move closer to the door. "When I woke up, I saw him under the bed. You came in and he crawled out. There's too much light outside for him!"

" _Crawled_?" He screeched, looking down to see his wife's face contract desperately. She seemed so serious that he almost believed her. "My dearest one, Michael's only ten days old and he can't possibly-"

"He's gone, Robert!" Cora screamed back, squirming again, more vehemently this time.

"I'm sure you had a bad dream, Cora, he'll be with one of the maids-" Robert tried, his eyes now darting everywhere to see if the keen cries of Mary were just caused by the fuss and not something else that was misplaced.

"I saw him!" Cora cried. "You let him out! In the light!"

"I didn't saw Michael on my way here." He cooed, trying to calm her down as he would have done with Mary or Michael. "Calm down. Ring for O'Connor and see yourself that everything's fine." He shushed her still, leading her to the bed when he was sure she wouldn't act mad. Robert hesitated for a moment before handing her the whimpering baby girl, but he was relived when he did, for Cora had quieted with her.

"You don't believe me."

Robert turned slightly toward her as he pulled the cord. Of course he wanted to believe her, but how could he? After all, it was a fact that their son was ten days old, strong, clever, but still a newborn. And Cora had been through hard times. She still had very bad dreams and she wasn't resting properly, as the babies feeding schedule changed every day to suit their needs.

There was a sensible reason for why Michael was not in his cradle by his mama's bed. There had to be.

They waited a couple of minutes before a maid pushed open the door– a common one judging from her clothes and her almost unfamiliar face - peeking from behind it with care, well knowing how the light was controlled inside that room.

He would have shouted to her due to her unsuitability, but in that moment he couldn't care less if she was going to help. Quite frankly, he was quite disturbed by Cora's state at the moment and he wanted her safe and tranquil as soon as possible.

"Come in," Robert invited and the girl looked around curiously, but with discretion. "I need you to find O'Connor, or anyone else for that matter, who could have taken Master Michael from his bassinet in the last half hour."

The maid looked utterly surprised, mouthing words without properly saying any of them.

"Milord, I-"

"Speak." Robert grunted.

"We were downstairs, milord, all of us." The girl stuttered fearfully. "Mr. Carson wanted to brief us about the last arrangements and we came back to out duties only five minutes ago." She swallowed. "None of us could've taken the Master out of her Ladyship's room."

"Thank you, that will be all." Robert mumbled, calculating, thinking that maybe his own mother or father was responsible for Michael's disappearance. Then he had to admit that none of them would have dreamt of sneaking into Cora's bedroom while she was asleep to kidnap their grandson.

"Wait." Cora's firm voice made both Robert and the maid startle.

"Milady."

"Tell Carson to bolt the doors. I want every soul of the staff to run far and wide in the castle to close every single curtain at every window at once." Cora had spoken with determination. The maid gave a small bow before darting back toward the door.

"Yes, Milady."

"Look for Master Michael." She added, much to the maid's surprise.

"Pardon me, milady?" The maid briefly shook her head and fear clenched up her heart when she spotted the grave face of her Ladyship, which left nothing to the imagination. She wasn't joking and she was deadly worried for her son. The girl took only a peek of the discarded and empty cradle.

"Someone took Master Michael without permission." Robert corrected, fear cracking his voice. He'd just come up with the realization that the only logical reason for this was how impossible it may had seemed. "Alert the whole house."

* * *

Charles Carson rushed down the stairs after personally checking every room that belonged to the staff to make sure that even the most tiny window had been closed or clogged to prevent any sort of light. He was quite shocked by all the fuss in the house, much because he couldn't fully comprehend the meaning of it. Yet, being a professional butler, he did as he was told. Carson was efficient because it was his duty and because it was an order given directly by the viscountess.

He rushed down the servant's stairs, exiting through the door that led to the second floor where the bedrooms were. He was both relieved and worried to see so many maids running in and out the rooms.

"O'Connor!" He called out as soon as he spotted her Ladyship's maid exiting the Mercia room. "Is everything all right in there?"

"Yes, Mr. Carson." The maid nodded with shortened breath. She was still frightened by the previous events and the butler had tried to console her without success. He admired the girl for her proficiency despite everything else.

"Good. They're downstairs?" He asked frantically, eyeing the balcony but saw no one.

"Yes, in the small library. The maids will follow shortly." O'Connor replied promptly as the other maids hurried behind her to reach the library. "Every room has been checked and locked."

Carson nodded, starting to walk in the corridor toward the stairs, O'Connor following in tow.

"What exactly do you know, O'Connor?" Carson hated to be uninformed or even not completely updated with the latest news of the house. But he trusted the girl. Of course, being a regular in her Ladyship's room where the children slept, no one could have known more than her.

"It's the bairn, Mr. Carson, the Master." The girl stuttered, her eyes filling up with tears "He's vanished."

"Someone took the Master?" He thundered. "How can it be possible? And why all this fuss with the curtains?" Carson was furious and just wanted to get to the library to know more: the Master, the earl, a baby, stolen from his own house.

"Milady is sure he's still in the house." O'Connor mumbled, amazed at how impossible the words must seem to anyone else.

"No one could have left the house unseen, O'Connor. Milady is mostly right." Carson swallowed hard, reaching for the doorknob of the small library before entering. "I'm sure that we'll get through this matter in no time and whomever is responsible will be severely punished."

* * *

The thick air of tension in the small library could have been cut with a knife. There were so many many people packed into that place that it seemed surreal. Everyone's mood was gloomy but alert. Never before had the whole staff had been summoned for a collective meeting in the library in front of the whole family, certainly not for such an essential matter.

"I suppose each one of you are aware of the situation." Patrick started, pacing slowly in front of the double line of servants that occupied one of the walls by its whole length. "I need you to answer sincerely and I ask you to not as your employer but as a grandfather." He spoke gravely but not once did his voice tremble. "Carson."

"Yes, Milord." The butler answered, straightening his back without stepping forward.

"I need to know if anyone could have passed through the back door."

"No, Milord." Charles answered straight away. "I was in my lounge and Barrow was outside the entire time."

"Barrow?" Patrick turned sharply to the first footman.

"Yes, Milord." Arthur Barrow answered. "I was outside with my son Thomas, repairing the library's mantel clock." He added sorrowfully. "No one could've passed there without my knowledge, Milord."

"Thank you, Barrow." The earl nodded, turning again to Carson. "I need to know if anyone was in the library in the past hour, and whether all the entrances were monitored."

"I was in the library, Milord. No one was there." The librarian peeped out.

"Well, her Ladyship and I were in the hallway, so no one could've passed through the front door." He muttered to himself, thinking out loud. "Very well. One more thing, Carson."

"Yes, Milord?"

"I need you to give me the keys to every entrance of this house." The butler fidgeted on the spot but immediately obeyed. "I very much regret doubting the integrity of any one of you but the latest events leave me no choice." The earl cleared his throat and swallowed hard. "You'll search the castle in pairs. The house is dark and not one candle more must be lit, you need to be careful. You'll start with the attic and the lower floor. If any one of you, for any reason, is hiding the child, you will suffer unimaginable consequences. Master Michael is clearly still in the house and he must be found." He almost stomped his feet. After a quick breath, he widened his eyes. No one had ever seen the earl Patrick, the stoic, calm, kind Patrick Crawley so worried and angry. " _Go_!"

There was a chaotic chatter of voices, a quick fuss as pairs were made and everyone rushed diligently out the room with one only task in mind.

"This is mostly unbelievable!" Violet scoffed violently once the room was cleared from downstairs ears. "Money makes people mad! One of the staff is clearly responsible for this and he's planning on asking for a ransom to get the child back!" Her azure eyes darted furiously in every direction. "He is the heir and most valuable to us. No doubt one of those servant must have seen an opportunity."

"I can't believe one of them is capable of such thing." Patrick murmured, brushing his hair off of his brow in sheer frustration.

"Of course they are! Michael is hidden somewhere here. The responsible party managed to get away with it but saw that all the gateways were obstructed... and here we are!"

"You're just losing time with this arguing. They are not the ones to be blame!" Cora cried out, silent tears streaming down her face as she absentmindedly rocked a half sleeping Mary in her arms.

"Oh, that's for sure!" Violet shrieked, glancing in Cora's direction with a savage look.

"What's that suppose to mean, Mother?" Robert shot himself up from the chair he'd slumped in. He had been sitting on its edge the whole time, wanting so much to talk on his father's behalf. But then he'd declined, deciding that Patrick's voice was much more proper and influential than his own.

"I find utterly intolerable that you let someone take your own son from his cradle under your nose!" Violet stated, hitting the arm of the chair with her fist. Her glare followed as Cora jumped on her feet, her eyes wide, horror melting with wrath, as her fingers trembled on the baby's blanket.

"How do you dare?" Cora hissed, clenching her jaw in order to not to yell at her mother-in-law. She couldn't stand such words: she loved her children dearly and only thought of someone finding her incompetent and uncaring toward her own flesh and blood simply put her over the edge.

"Mama, it is not Cora's fault, stop these allegations immediately!" Robert defended Cora, hurrying to reach his wife and enclose her quivering shoulders into a loosened embrace. "She was asleep and maids come and go in her room all day long-"

"Me being asleep has nothing to do with it, Robert and you know it!" Cora blurted, detaching from him quite ferociously.

"Then enlighten us!" Violet screeched. "Or do you want to make us believe that Michael crawled out from his bassinet on his own to play hide and seek with the whole house?"

Only silence followed her words, interrupted by the quiet sobs coming from her daughter-in-law, whose eyes were staring at the floor, the blood drained out of her face. Violet fidgeted on the spot, looking lost and confused, searching for her husband's and son's eyes to receive an answer, any logical answer for the matter.

"I saw him under the bed," Cora whispered, her voice trembling, deaf from her husbands efforts to make her silent. "Michael looked right at me," Cora gasped, fear and worry mixing together in her chest, making hard for her to even breathe. "and he was big and strong and he ran out of the-"

"Hush, now." Robert whispered in her ears, taking his position behind her, one hand on each shoulder, squeezing her with a firm and reassuring grasp.

"You need a good doctor, my child." Violet commented quietly, her face serious and white as a sheet.

"Violet, please." Patrick tried to shush his wife. He was surprised anytime he succeeded in such an attempt. But after all, Violet was a woman of duties. If her husband thought it was enough, she simply quieted at his orders. He was very pleased that it worked under certain circumstances. The man sighed loudly, hiding his face behind his hand and sinking into an armchair by the mantel.

"Michael is in the house, somewhere." The countess continued. "At worst, we'll wait for him to get hungry and just follow his wails."

"You know, mama, sometimes you can be unbelievably unfeeling." Robert muttered disbelievingly, slowly shaking his head as he cradled Mary in his arms, who had been passed to his arms without him even noticing it.

"I'm English, Robert, and so are you. I'm just being practical." Violet replied patronizingly.

"It's about your grandson, who's missing and-" Robert held his breath, words about to escape his lips when he saw Cora unsteadily walking toward the door. "Cora, where are you going?"

"To look for Michael." She answered flatly, her eyes dry but rimmed in red. "They won't know where to look. He's probably scared to death and all these people yelling and running around the house will scare him even more. He's hiding somewhere and he needs me."

Robert stared at her for a long moment. She was still firmly convinced that little Michael was out in the house on his own. He couldn't believe his eyes nor ears. Yet what was the purpose of staying in the library, doing nothing, when his son was in danger, when he could be looking for him? He wasn't sure if he would need to search for a baby crawling around, maybe tucked somewhere by another's will, or between the arms of a delinquent, but he had to look for his son on his wife's behalf.

"I'm coming with you." Robert stated promptly. From the expression on his face, it was clear that he would have not accepted a no as an answer.

Cora took a deep breath, relieved to have Robert by her side. Frankly, she didn't care about the reasons why he had made that decision, she was just happy to have one more pair of eyes.

"So are we." Patrick cut in, readily raising up and glancing down at Violet. The woman was still looking incredulous, utterly displeased and even bothered by the whole situation. "Aren't we?" He urged his wife, stretching his hand in her direction.

Violet didn't answer but scoffed and grunted, then gripped his fingers and stood with Patrick, following the tormented parents in tow.

* * *

We're commencing the full scan search! In which room would you look for Michael first?  
Next chapter: " _Seek_ ".

If you have time, **please** **leave a feedback** , thank you! :)


	4. seek

**WARNING: READ CHAPTER 3 FIRST!**

NdA: well, I don't know what happened but last time I updated, it didn't count as a new chapter, so it didn't appear on the first page of the DA archive, nor emails were sent. I considered the idea of posting a chapter-note after few days but I thought better not. I decided, at the end, on waiting to post the new chapter and place just a disclaimer at the top, no harm done. BUT PLEASE IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE 3rd CHAPTER YET, GO RIGHT NOW BECAUSE IT'S DIRECTLY LINKED TO THIS ONE.

 **WARNING: READ CHAPTER 3 FIRST!  
**

Secondly, big thanks and hugs to mumsie Dream of Ragtime who reviewed the previous chapter nevertheless and always has my back, and of course to my wonderful beta CountessCora who's always there for me and supports all my works! Love ya!

Also, yeah, this week will be a tough one for me. Exams and A LOT of anxiety. Thought posting a new Cobert chapter would bring me luck Ω (this would be a horseshoe lol).

Oh, did I tell you to read chapter 3, first? ...Yeah, whatever, _enjoy_! :)

* * *

Chapter 4 – Seek

Cora looked like an authentic damned soul. Her once red eyes were now encircled by two dark shadows and her once shimmering blue irises had turned into wan pools, wide and restless.

It was all so similar to the time during the twins' first week in the world where Martha had taken Mary for a quick stroll around the house while Cora was napping with Michael across her lap in the library. Because Cora was so attached to the girl, since the doctor convinced her that Mary staying close to her mother would help her recover more quickly, Cora nearly had a panic attack when she woke up a realized that Mary wasn't asleep on her chest, like usual.

It was a feeling akin to what she had now but the way she acted now made the previous incident pale in comparison.

She was unsettled when Mary wasn't around her, almost as if she was an extension of her own body. But when the boy wasn't close, she felt like her heart was being ripped out.

Robert felt worried beyond imagination, angry because if someone was actually behind the boy disappearing, he would readily kill the responsible party with his bare hands. But he still couldn't completely comprehend his wife's state of mind. He could never have put his thoughts into words. But through everyone else's eyes, she was clearly out of her mind. It couldn't be good for Cora or anyone else.

"Where would you like to start?" Robert asked her quietly, his ears ringing with all the footsteps, hurried running and voices that filled the house in one confusing noise.

Cora sighed sharply, leaning onto his arm as if all the tiredness of the world had suddenly descended on her shoulders. She peeked behind him to see Patrick rather awkwardly shushing baby Mary, but said nothing.

"The dining room, there's only the table and few pieces of furniture inside." Cora said, her voice a worn out whisper. "Then the smaller rooms and the library again. We will meet the staff on the bedroom floor, it's where-" Cora paused, swallowing hard and shutting her eyes. "It's probably where he's hiding."

Robert was just about to reply to her, but seeing her so stressed, he decided to play along, considering that it might be the best plan after all.

"Fine." He nodded, putting his hand on the small of her back. His other supported her elbow as to lead her as they exited the room, heading to the dining for the search.

Robert was mentally thanking any force above that prevented his mother from commenting on Cora's rather odd pronouncement, but he was interrupted by a keen shout coming from the stairs.

It was unusual and quite improper for even a lady's maid, to rush down the main stairs, yet O'Connor was there, quickly running down the steps as she clutched onto the railing.

"Milady!" She called out, her eyes darting through in the hallway where the family had just arrived. "Milady, Milord!" She cried out again and finished her run with a jump over the last two steps, which would have provided a hellish scolding, if not a sacking, from Carson if he'd witnessed it. But this was an extraordinary occasion and rules of etiquette were the last thing to matter, both upstairs and downstairs.

"What is it, O'Connor?" Robert asked frantically, suddenly fearing bad news. But just as he was preparing to ask more, he noticed what the maid had between her hands and his jaw clenched.

"I found Master Michael's blanket, Milord." The maid panted, her fingers mercilessly wrinkling the little knitted cover. She looked down once and then handed it over to him.

Robert took it with a blank expression. As he held it loosely, Cora touched its folds until she found a corner where the letter M, in a thick blue straw, was embroidered.

"Where did you find it?" Cora asked, looking as if she would have shaken madly the maid's shoulders to get an answer if she wasn't almost nauseated by the whole situation.

"It was in Milord's dressing room, beneath the door." The maid gasped, trying hard to breathe normally. "It wasn't there earlier, Milady, I swear! I checked before coming down to the library with Mr. Carson!" She promptly walked over to the Earl, who was silently gesturing for her to come over to take care of Mary.

"Thank you." Robert cut in, more forcefully Cora's arm in order to lead her to the stairs. "You stay here," He commanded, addressing to his parents and O'Connor. "If Carson or any other member of the staff comes for further directions, Father, tell him to stay off the second floor." Robert was firm in his directions as he turned to ascend the second set of stairs and looked down again. "And monitor every entrance, by all means. Michael's nearer." He drew a quick breath, not wanting to point out whether he was referring to the baby or to the person behind the kidnapping. "I demand that everything is left as it is for the case."

Robert felt like he was carrying Cora up the stairs. Even if he hadn't scooped her up in his arms, all of her weight had landed upon him. It wasn't much, of course, and he wasn't having to put much effort into either walking nor climbing the stairs, but his stomach turned at the familiar and yet unpleasant sensation of having an anguished Cora beside him. It was as if a fatal disease had affected her and it was getting worse minute by minute. She looked like a desperate soul, searching for something so far away that it was impossible to reach.

He was sick with worry for his son, but now his heart was filling up with concern for his wife as well.

He didn't even notice when they arrived on the second floor where the bedrooms were located. After rushing past the room they shared – which was officially Cora's room – they walked through the door dividing their bedroom and the next one, finding several things scattered on the floor.

The only lit candle was about to die, but the flickering flame was able to show books and the cover of the bed – usually perfect since no one used it unless strictly necessary – half pulled onto the floor by a corner and it was pulled toward the hallway. The door was open.

When he raised his gaze to make eye contact with Cora, he noticed that she was walking rather unsteadily across the corridor, occasionally leaning on the walls. As she did so, she seemed nicely carelessly toward pictures in frames that had been there for ages.

"Cora!" Robert chased her with few long steps before reaching out to stop her from moving further with a slight touch. She seemed so disoriented, her eyes were glassy as if she was under some kind of spell. He'd seen that look before, during her pregnancy, when she behaved so strangely that she could've harmed or killed herself in a blink of an eye. Was it was all coming back? It frightened him so much. "Darling, where are you going?"

"Michael's in the Queen Caroline bedroom, Robert." She swallowed and turned in his direction. She blinked and that mysterious look faded.

Robert felt so relieved. Maybe he'd just been imagining things because of the scare, maybe it was his mind and troubled heart giving him a hard time as well.

"It's impossible, dear. That room's been locked for years." He said quietly, narrowing his eyes when he indeed saw a strange light coming from the dark. A line spread across the hallway carpet, similar to the light that would come from a slightly opened door.

"He's in there, I'm telling you." Cora spoke with a firm voice, much louder than the choked whisper she'd had earlier, her eyes suddenly relieved.

Robert held his breath, acknowledging what he was seeing. The only room that was locked in the whole house, the most dismissed one, was open. It was the possible hiding place of Michael, if Cora was indeed right about the whole matter.

The Queen Caroline had been locked since a fire broke out, more than twenty years ago. He thought someone might have died in the fire if he remembered the rumors he'd heard in the distant past about it, but he wasn't sure. He only knew that the room was only recently discussed as one to renovate. It could become a future bedroom for one of the children, most likely Mary. But now, he seriously considered shutting that damned room forever and pretending it never existed.

"Stay here, Cora." He instructed, hesitantly leaving her side and attempting a step back. "I'm taking a candle." He proposed, sure that no one would have checked inside nor bothered to light a candle in an unused and inaccessible room.

"No, I'm going inside." Cora replied firmly, slightly turning her slender neck to look at him from the corner of her eye. She was smiling reassuringly. "The light will scare him off." She temptingly nodded. "Michael needs to be comforted. Prepare his crib in our room, if you want."

Robert glanced back at her, with an incredulous expression. He was incapable of producing a coherent thought inside his brain. Why was everything like this happening to them? Why was Cora acting so strangely? How was the Queen Caroline inexplicably open? Why his wife was sure that it held their son?

"Cora, I-" Robert began, but she shushed him off, walking closer to the room in the far corner of the castle.

"Don't worry, Robert." She said. "I can manage this."

Robert couldn't help worrying even more at her sudden change of behavior. Her suffering had vanished so quickly as her quivering fingers already reached for the doorknob as it was a few feet away from her grasp. He stepped closer, peeking cautiously over her shoulder, ready to intervene if any danger was about to threaten her.

He swallowed when the door squealed open, letting them both in without much light. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to adjust to the poor visibility, as what light there was in the room was given only by few holes in the thick, old tent that hanged on its hooks by grace. Everything inside the room seemed to be ready to fall into dust any second from a sneeze or a breath taken too harshly. The burned canopy was the only thing left of the bed. There were no covers or mattress or pillows. The black mantel was clearly neglected and all was covered in dust and spiderwebs. He wanted so badly to cough and get rid of some of the dust inside his lungs but feared that even the slightest noise would have ruined everything.

"Cora, let's go. There's no one here." He whispered quietly, leaning his hand on her tiny shoulder, but she seemed to have become deaf.

"Michael?" She called out in a thin murmur and her voice sounded so relieved and happy that every word he was about to speak to try to get her out of that room died in his throat. "Don't be afraid, darling, come here." She said again and knelt down.

Robert witnessed at the whole scene frozen in shock and fear. He heard something crash on the floor, either hurried steps and sinister crawling behind him. When he turned, only a ball of dust was floating in the air. Then there was a giggle, a soft coo and the unmistakable sigh – similar to a sob – of an infant.

His eyes had just adjusted to the dim light when he spotted the wobbling shape of a toddler rushing before the window, as Cora called Michael another time.

His jaw dropped and his heart stopped abruptly when, at last, he saw a small child sitting in the corner of the room. His little chest rose and fell quickly, the tiny lips ajar and the eyes... white and wide in their direction... In Cora's, to be precise.

Petrified, Robert watched as the toddler crawled quickly toward his wife. The crawl was so fast that he had difficulty in following his motions. He was wearing a familiar knitted baby blouse, but it was far too small for him. His pale legs popped out from a pair of shorts that were equally too little.

Michael.

It was impossible that this was his own child. He'd grown but still had his unmistakable white eyes. Michael, _his Michael._

The child clutched his mama with force as his chubby arms encircled her so tightly that he feared that her neck would snap. He was about to walk closer to her but found that he wasn't capable of moving a muscle.

Michael was looking over his mother's shoulder in his direction, unmoving. He looked so innocent and yet there was something terribly wrong with all of this.

Robert wanted to speak but he couldn't say anything either. The silence between them was soon replaced by Cora's tender voice humming to him, shushing him as she used to do when he had to sleep. Robert could see her fingers running through his pale hair as she tried to rock him.

"It's over now, don't worry." She cooed as Robert saw the boy curling on Cora's shoulder, pressing his nose onto her neck, tightening his hold there. But she didn't seem to suffer a bit from it. "It's all right, my prince, Mama is here."

Michael rose his chin in his papa's direction for a moment and then smiled.

* * *

Well, I hope you liked it! Personally, I loved writing the horror atmosphere of this chapter.  
What's up next? Coming soon, chapter five: " _Like Water_ ".

If you have time, **please** **leave a feedback** , thank you! :)


	5. like water

Nda: Sorry, I haven't been active in a while, but I was busy with my uni and exams and now it's summer time, yay! Anyhow, everything went well and tomorrow I'm leaving.. so, this is my farewell chapter - until the end of August. I'll see you there, with a **new chapter** and (maybe) with a **new story** as well! Wish you all a great summer xoxo

I'm deeply grateful for the ones who reviewd the previous chapter: Alice, lulin, witchoesed, hillevi, Dream of Ragtime and Mr./Ms Guest.  
Above all, maky thanks to the best beta ever, **CountessCora**.

The " _The Others_ " reference is real in this chapter, I only rearranged things. That movie is life, I couldnt help it.  
That said, until next time.. _enjoy_!

* * *

Chapter 5 – Like Water

Violet Crawley felt a terrible agitation as she watched the scene before her in silence. Although it looked like a simple and innocent game of a mother playing with her child, Violet couldn't help but think that there was something horribly wrong with all of this.  
Cora was not just dragging Michael happily by his feet while he was trying to crawl off her lap, they were both grinning gleefully like nothing strange was happening. She stopped only when the boy sat on the duvet, bouncing happily and grinning back at his mama, who clapped her hands and opened her arms to welcome the baby seconds later. It would have been all so sweet and tender – even if those words didn't belong to her daily vocabulary – if that baby who crawled and articulated some giggles and coos as he was trying to speak wasn't her grandson, born not more than eleven days earlier along with his twin sister Mary.

She'd always thought the girl was too small and fragile, so similar to her American mother. Yet, now Violet was starting to reconsider the baby girl. After all, she was following a much more natural schedule of growth than her brother.

Violet had almost fainted when Patrick dragged her in the daughter-in-law's bedroom, after the search for Michael had stopped and the house had returned to a normal rhythm. Out of all the years when she pretended to feel like passing out, it was the first time she didn't have to fake her sickness. That crazy American girl had any right to be upset, though she was more concerned about her child having gone missing rather than his abnormal growth. It wasn't just a physical thing, for Michael seemed to understand things that a newborn never would.

"Cora, my dear." Patrick's soft voice was able to startle Violet, who sharply turned to her husband, then relaxed, sinking deeply in the chair near the vanity as her eyes never left the boy.

Cora laughed one more time, unwilling to abruptly interrupt the games with her son, opening her arms just to enclose Michael in a tight embrace. Then she leaned her chin above his tiny head as he settled more comfortably against her chest.

"Yes, papa." Cora said quietly, a smile curving her lips. When Patrick sighed gravely, her eyes darted worriedly to her husband, but she was unable to find his gaze for he was staring at the floor, his hands digging in his pockets as his father cleared his throat.

"We need to talk about Michael." Patrick said and walked closer to the bed, sitting on the corner as his eyes dropped to the boy's little fist, eagerly grabbing his mama's sleeve.

"What about Michael?" Cora asked curiously as if it was the most natural of the questions.

"Well," he began, shifting uneasily on the covers, "he's a big boy." The man chuckled, but from his cracking voice and his expression, it was clear that that wasn't the actual thing he wished to say. "Far too big for a newborn." He spoke then without breathing. It was hard for him to say it and he could hardly imagine how it might feel to his mother to hear it.

"He's growing fast, I know." She said flatly – though pride was evident in her tone – avoiding any further eye contact as she gently stroked Michael's back.

"The thing is, my dear," Patrick drew a deep breath, waiting for her to focus again and when she did with a little and rather frustrated sigh, he spoke again. "We have to go on the carriage ride in a couple of days, to let the village see the future generation, and I- we... don't think we should bring Michael with us because-"

"Of course we can't bring Michael!" Cora cut him off, immediately alerted by Patrick's words.

"Oh, that's a relief." The man smiled tentatively, reaching out to ruffle the baby's head, retrieving his hand when he saw Michael's pupils darting in his direction. He always felt a shiver crawling under his skin when the boy looked in his way. "And that leads us to the next thing, which is-"

"The day light would kill him." Cora spoke again, softly, slightly rocking the baby as she talked. "That's why I was thinking that perhaps we should choose an evening ride. It would be a far better option."

Patrick immediately turned his head to look over his shoulder. It was then that Robert stepped in, taking his father's place on the bed and putting his hand on Cora's knee to reassure her.

"There's another matter, my darling, concerning Michael." He started with a long sigh, not willing to speak further until her eyes were locked on his. "We can't take him on the carriage ride because he would scare the people." Robert gasped, terrified that his words would trigger all her anger. "They are waiting for newborn twins and we can't present them a toddler waving at them!" He said, maybe a little too harshly than he intended. "That's why we must keep him hidden until-"

"Keep him hidden, Robert?" Cora gaped, blinking her eyes several times in total befuddlement. "What are you talking about?" She gasped, looking around the room just to see other concerned gazes. They were all trying to say the same thing to her, they thought it was best. But how could they? To their own grandchild, Robert, to his own son? How could he even think to keep him from the world outside? Pray, for how long?

"People will start to say things about him and I don't want that!" Robert replied promptly.

"It's your idea, isn't it?!" Cora yelled angrily, shifting to the bed so she could see Violet over her husband's shoulder. Deep inside, Cora knew she was being unfair, but she couldn't help it. She did need someone to blame.

"Unlikely!" The older woman scoffed, sitting more properly on the edge of the chair, her cheeks starting to regain color. "Michael-" Violet gasped, looking for a moment at the boy. "Michael is the only heir we have. He's precious to us."

"Cora, dear," Patrick intervened again. "The village will think that we're tricking them. They're expecting for two newborns." He repeated, trying to sound reasonable only so Cora wouldn't fight him right back as she just had with his son. "Yet he's the future Earl and we can't just pretend he's dead to justify his absence in the carriage, even if children do die unexpectedly at this young age, and-"

"You wanted to pretend he was dead?" Cora questioned, her voice high and clearly upset.

"It's what people do when something inconvenient happens in the family, but-" Patrick waved his hand before him, trying to prevent the upcoming words of protest from his daughter-in-law. "but we can't possibly show him off as the Earl when the suitable time comes, we must think about the future."

"So," Robert began, with a profound nod of his head to go along with his words. "we had better tell the truth," he attempted a smile. But when he noticed that his wife was utterly unimpressed, he looked behind him for some help.

"We'll say he's incapable of being out just yet." Violet concluded, her eyes shut and her brow wrinkled in concentration as if she was remembering a recent agreement.

"And that needed this sort of committee?" Cora asked flatly, looking incredulous and clutching to her baby. "When did you come up with all this?"

"On our way here, when Robert called for us." Violet answered straight away, gaining glares from both of the men in the room.

"You certainly know how to plan things." Cora mumbled under her breath, but everyone obliviously had heard it. "There's more, of course?" She questioned again, her ironic chuckle still curving her lips.

"No one must ever know the actual reason behind this mystery." Robert spoke softly, rubbing her knee tentatively. When she didn't refuse it, he reached out to tangle his fingers with hers, resting their hands on the back of their little son. "Michael will stay between us and a chosen few from the staff."

"Meaning?" Cora asked in a small voice, her eyes now only for her husband.

"Meaning that Michael will only stay in this room and in the nursery since he has more needs than a newborn, he'll- er- have my toys. We'll keep the rooms locked. O'Connor will help us and she only will know, but for the others... he's terribly ill because of some... some chronic disease-" He sighed, rubbing the boy's head for a moment. "Sorry, little one." He bit his lip before resuming. "None of the staff saw him like this, so it'll be believable." Robert shifted closer, opening his arms to welcome his wife. When she leaned toward him, Michael cooed between them, wrapped in their embrace. "It's for everyone's sake, darling."

"I don't want him to be some sort of... freak." Cora mumbled. "And if you think that it will be better if-"

"I do." Robert nodded, rubbing her back as she shushed her reassuringly. "We'll keep him safe between Downton's walls, I promise."

* * *

Cora had been left alone in her room, thinking. She had to admit that bringing out Michael was not only dangerous but inconvenient. Her child was indeed special, but the people, the most of the time, weren't so willing to welcome uniqueness with open arms. Only she knew how much time had passed since the community accepted an American girl as future countess of Grantham.

Besides, Michael would be their secret, their miracle to witness in private, to watch him grow stronger and more handsome each day. She couldn't be more proud of it. She was a privileged one, along with her husband, of course. Cora wanted the best for her son. She wanted him to be a perfect Lord, a fine boy, to be trained to become like his father one day. But she would be much more happy if all that would have been performed secretly rather than in the normal way.

She didn't know why but she felt calmer to have her child to herself only. Cora even thought for a moment that it would been so much better to train Michael by herself – or with Robert's help, at most. Wasn't he their child, after all? They didn't need tutors nor teachers and certainly not more curious eyes and tongues to gossip about their miraculous newborn. On his young shoulders he already had the responsibility of being heir, a future Count and a king to his little kingdom like his father before him. Michael had to grow strong and defeat his illness with her help. He would be everyone's future and it was her duty, as her mother, to preserve that treasure. She was not doing it just for Michael and his safety but for all the people of Downton.

Cora sighed gravely, slightly turning to the cradle in which Michael had fallen into slumber, tired from his games on his mama's bed. He looked so peaceful that her only wish for the day was to snuggle beside him and forget all the troubles her family was causing. He was just a big boy, strong and beautiful... it all seemed so simple and yet it wasn't. She knew they would have to wait much longer than a few months, much longer after his illness would disappear, maybe his life would be normal only when his appearance would match his age in years or even decades. But what kind of life she was offering him? What if Michael would always be special? What if he would never be considered normal to the common person?

Cora paced nervously around his cradle, stopping when she reached the curtain that cloaked the window completely. She needed air, but she couldn't get it, not there. There were too much 'ifs' and 'buts', too many without answers, for the time and the fate only could be able to give.

It was not in her hands. Her duty was only to bring the best she could in her little boy's life; and she would do it at all costs.

"Milady?"

Cora turned sharply to the door, toward a soft knocking. She recognized the muffled voice of her maid, O'Connor, and knew she was the one who had called for her and yet she had this irresistible instinct of sending her off just to stay alone a little longer. To be alone with Michael, as if a great deal of time ahead wasn't nearly enough for her. She should have felt the same way with Mary, and yet she felt some sort of disturbing indifference for her daughter. Now it was a sentiment that truly scared her and shook Mary off from her thoughts in the blink of an eye, leaving a heavy lump at the base of her stomach.

"Come in quickly, O'Connor." Cora said, after clearing her throat and positioning herself in front of Michael's bassinet to protect him from the bright crack of the door, which entered the room for a minute.

"Milady." Evaleen blinked several times to let her eyes adjust to the dark. Once they did, she couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort, the same as she felt every time she entered the room. And yet, this time was different. It was the first time milady had asked for her – out of her fixed schedule – after the accident. For hours, she'd feared that moment, living in the agonizing limbo of the ignorance about her future. She was sure that her Ladyship would have sacked her for her negligence toward the children, even if a part of her felt completely innocent since she really couldn't explain what exactly happened that day. She knew that in Cora's point of view her lack of professionalism was unforgivable. Evaleen couldn't really blame her for punishing her mistake even if she eventually would have done such a thing.

"I need to talk to you." Cora said flatly, letting herself fall into her chair in front of the vanity. It was dark and yet O'Connor could see that milady's reflection was heavy and vexed as if she was carrying the weight of whole world upon her shoulders.

"If it's for the other day, milady-" Evaleen swallowed hard, her heart torn in two. She couldn't really bear the thought of letting her mistress down and felt terribly guilty for putting Lady Mary's life in danger and yet... leaving the family was the last thing she wanted. She would have fought, quietly and reasonably, but she would have fought. "I am really sorry. But I promise I'll do everything to keep Master Michael and Lady Mary safe. I would give my life for them."

"I know." Cora sighed, hiding her mouth behind her palm. Even if the light was poor, Evaleen could see her eyes shining, staring at something in the room, lost. "I believe you deserve a second chance." The woman murmured flatly.

"Thank you, Milady." O'Connor had never heard or seen her Ladyship so emotionless. Yet, in that moment, she couldn't care less. She had her yearned opportunity to show her devotion and she wouldn't waste it. She'd witnessed the twins' birth, she was fond of her mistress and her most precious gift in that moment was to continue her job.

"That because I trust you." The other woman continued in the same tone. "And despite what happened, I also believe you're faithful and loyal to our family."

"I am, milady, I swear." There wasn't much the maids could have boasted about a master talking so openly and well about one of their staff. But O'Connor could have – not that it was in her nature to do this – and that made her immensely proud of herself. Another good reason to behave well, according to both of them. "I won't disappoint you, milady."

"I hope not." Cora said sharply, maybe too much so. "Anyway, I shall need your help with Master Michael." She sighed, clutching the back of the chair to stand up, dragging herself to the bassinet where her son was sleeping.

At first, Evaleen was too focused on the way Milady waddled tiredly around to notice what was inside the cradle, but when her eyes laid on the newborn Master, she couldn't help but gasp at the sight. She'd left a pretty boy behind just to find a toddler in his place.

"Milady, what-" Evaleen felt her voice dying inside her throat. She wanted so much to asked what happened to the baby whom she had seen coming to the world, but somehow she knew that her question would have gotten on Cora's nerves.

"Is something the matter?" The other woman inquired. From her tone, O'Connor understood that it was better not to make a fuss about it. Her Ladyship was behaving strangely, but she was acting as if nothing was wrong regarding her son. Not a soul in the house had said anything about something odd concerning the heir, so Evaleen buried everything inside, firmly shaking her head, her eyes incapable of leaving the boy.

"No, milady." O'Connor mumbled.

"Good, because there isn't." Cora stated firmly, which suggested to O'Connor what her next words would be. "Master Michael is growing fast. He is a... special child." She started to pace back and forth in front of the window, her hand brushing with a ghostly touch on the top of the cradle. "You must not speak of him with anyone in this house. Most of all, with anyone outside this house. It's going to be a secret for only few, is that clear?"

"Of course, Milady." O'Connor nodded sincerely. It was obvious why the family wished to keep the boy secret. Perhaps they hadn't fired her because she was only the second or third person who saw the children most. Her Ladyship and his Lordship knew how fond she was of the family. By appealing to her mistake, they would have assured of a person who would be completely at their service, at their conditions.

"You'll help me move Master Michael from this bedroom to the nursery and vice-versa." Cora was talking calmly now, like the first time she had arrived at the house. Cora, Robert and Carson had explained what her tasks would be.

"Yes, Milady." Evaleen nodded, mentality noting each word coming from Cora's lips.

"You'll have a set of keys of the whole house just in case you need them. You won't let anyone touch the keys. It's a great responsibility, O'Connor, you must realize it."

"I do, milady." The maid nodded again. "If I may ask, why the keys?"

Cora stared at her for a great deal of time, as if she was pondering whether it was better or not for her to know the truth so soon. Then she sighed and nodded in agreement.

"Knowing right away could help you to get into the idea." She mumbled, but the maid waited patiently in silence, knowing her mistress was talking more to herself than to anyone else. "This house will be run as a tight ship from now on. The light... the light and the darkness, upon which the life of my son depends, will be treated as if it were water, by opening and closing the doors." Cora paused, slightly bending down atop the cradle, smiling down at Michael as he fussed in his sleep. "It's the only thing that can save us from drowning." She sighed gravely, returning to sit at her vanity.

The maid stared at her mistress for a long time, fearing to even breathe, since the woman before her seemed on the verge of crumbling at the lightest of breezes. She felt the need to confirm everything that her mistress said to be sure she understood. Yet she hoped that the silence might have given the answer.

Seconds became minutes in the heavy stillness of the room. O'Connor dared to swallow, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her skirts rustling quietly.

"I would be happy to accomplish my duties, milady." The girl whispered, waiting for any answer coming from her mistress' mouth. She needed her permission to leave the bedroom. Frankly, she hated being there without the company and comfort of a friendly voice. She didn't know why but her heart felt better.

"Good." Cora mumbled with a long sigh, unmoving. "I hoped you'd say that." She added then. O'Connor could only see one of her eyes popping out from behind her hand. Her crystalline blue eye shone like always and the familiar vision quietened the girl's spirit.

"Milady." O'Connor attempted a shy smile and a bow, sure that her Ladyship would soon send her away to fetch something for the children or to settle the nursery for Master Michael's upcoming relocation. But the countess had none of it. She had been sitting but now Cora was lingering over her vanity, her fingers digging into the locks of hair on each side of her head, making them quickly come undone.

Evaleen couldn't be sure, but she could've sworn that milady had grown two visible dark circles under her eyes. She seemed completely worn out, more than O'Connor had ever seen. In her eyes, Cora had always been strong, overcoming everything life had given her. Evaleen had seen her in the most vulnerable of times, even giving birth to twins and then blooming again after few minutes, just when her eyes had seen the babies. Her mistress had always found a worthwhile thing for which to come out from the dark, but now... she seemed to have lost her reason, as if life itself was slowly slipping from her.

Evaleen was worried sick.

"You may go, O'Connor, thank you." Cora's voice startled her. The timid smile that she gave soon after, while slouching more gracefully on her chair, hadn't the power to ease the maid's concerns like usual.

The maid nodded. Just when she was ready to turn her heels to the door, she froze, frowning a little to her mistress, who was still looking at her yet without paying much attention.

"Are you tired, Milady?"

Cora's eyes darted in her direction, still looking lost and clouded although her glance was lively.

"Very much so." Her whisper was firm and clear. "Exhausted, actually." She tried to give her a sympathetic smile, but failed miserably. O'Connor returned the smile with the most sincere intention. "But we all have our duties, don't we? That's why you must help me, O'Connor, you're the only one I can rely on. You care for Michael, don't you?"

"Of course, Milady." The maid nodded slightly, knowing well where Cora was going.

"Indeed you do." Cora mumbled, nodding instinctively as she smiled at the memory of the maid who first held her son when he came into the world. Evaleen O'Connor had been the first one, even before his own mother, to fall in love with him. "Sometimes I feel like you're the only one who understands." The woman sighed gravely.

The maid didn't say anything this time. She knew why she would have never the courage to abandon her Ladyship or leave Downton, if not forced to do so. Her mistress knew how much she loved her life there, how much she was fond of her employer and how much she loved the babies whom she had helped bring into the world.

She was sure that her Ladyship did want her. Even though Cora could have capitalized upon her mistake in order to elicit the best from her, she wasn't able to feel betrayed. Evaleen was being set up but she really didn't mind, not if that meant the opportunity, the honour and the great happiness of taking care of the Viscountess and her progeny.

Little did she know that her good intentions would crash in a matter of days. Her great sense of loyalty and devotion toward the Crawley family would turn shortly into nothing more than the uncontrollable will to run away without turning back on any account.

* * *

Look's like something is hiding behind the daskest corner; find out what is it with the next chapter.. maybe.  
See you at the end of August with " _Prelude_ ". Bye! xoxo

If you have time, **please** **leave a feedback** , thank you! :)


	6. prelude

Nda: Hello guys, I'm back! I know I'm late but my uni got wiiiild. Anyway I'm here, full of new ideas and ready to start a new adventure. So, stay tuned and enjoy the ride- there may be some surprises in store for you, my fellow _Cobert_ companions!

But first, let me love who reviewed the previous chapter: hillevi, witchoesed, Countess of Cobert, Dream of Ragtime & Dr. Serpico.  
As always, many kisses and hugs to the wonderful beta **CountessCora**.

Sorry if this update it's a little shorter, but I hope to give you more soon. _Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter 6 – Prelude

"My, Robert, she's truly a wonder!" Rosamund Crawley breathed out, her mouth agape as she lifted little Mary, holding the baby tight to her bosom. The woman started to instinctively bounce softly as she hushed the annoyed gurgles the baby was producing with gentle sounds.

"Mary's doing finer each day." Robert stated proudly, folding his arms behind his back as he watched his sister and his daughter bonding. He was a little concerned because the baby didn't seem as quiet as always. On the contrary, she looked quite displeased, on the verge of crying. Maybe because she wasn't used to his sister. That thought broke his heart just a little. Of course they would have time to know each other. With the years passing by, he was sure they would love each other, but still he preferred for Mary to behave well, even if he couldn't expect much from a newborn. The baby, as she knew, was giving the best of herself.

Rosamund, however, didn't take anything personally, knowing well that the child hardly remembered her from the day after she was born. Of course her delicate nose wasn't used to such amount of perfume as her aunt usually wore.

"Cora said she was beautiful, but..." She started but her voice cracked into a gasp as her eyes grew moist. "Oh, look at me becoming a mess because of you." She sobbed, playfully scolding her niece as she curled up onto her shoulder.

"She does look like papa, doesn't she?" Robert beamed, anxiously raising his eyebrows.

"She has his hair and eyes, I give you that. But I hardly think she'll ever grow a moustache," Rosamund sniffed, trying to talk seriously despite the nonsense dialogue she was having for the purpose of removing the emotions that threatened her composure. "Besides, I was going to say that she looks like her mother." The woman whispered, tenderly brushing Mary's porcelain skin, which she had clearly inherited from Cora. Her sister-in-law may be American and all the ghastly things Mama said about her, but she was fair and pretty. Mary was very lucky to resemble her.

"You mean stubborn and beautifully demanding?" Robert teased, rearranging the blanket around the baby's little feet. "She is already. Cora seems also to have passed down an unfailing weapon of knowing exactly how to get everything she wants. It works wonderfully with me." He sighed loudly, the clear sound of defeat in his voice.

"What did you expect, brother? We're women, aren't we, my little darling?" Rosamund giggled, cooing at the baby as she tentatively opened her eyes to take a look at her aunt. "Anyway, you'll have your ally in no time." The woman mumbled vaguely, starting to pace around the room as she cuddled the girl.

Robert watched the scene with a light heart, although his mind had raced to Michael, who was playing in the other room with Cora. It was natural that his sister thought that the boy would have grown up as his father's son, his perfect copy. But deep inside he couldn't help but feel nervous at the affirmation. Or maybe he felt nervous because in a matter of seconds Rosamund would have asked to pay a visit to him, too. He hadn't the chance to explain the situation to her. It wasn't as if Mary already looked like a toddler.

"Speaking of which-" Robert cleared his throat, unsure how to start the unpleasant discussion.

"Yes, how will you do with Michael?" Rosamund cut him off, curiously wondering how the boy, who couldn't handle the sun, could've been brought out in the day. Maybe he'd healed?

"He'll stay in the house, of course, we can't risk him." Robert answered promptly, getting in response a firm nod of agreement from his sister.

"So you'll christen him another day, I think it's for the best." Rosamund considered, thinking that it was far too soon to put jealousy between the twins now, since they hardly understood the world. Of course, Michael was their only son – for now – so they couldn't possibly put his life in danger for something that could've been easily done another time when it would have been more suitable. "Who had the idea of having the carriage stroll and the christening for Mary in the same day, anyway?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows. She already had an idea but was just curious to confirm it.

"Cora." He replied. "Mary will tire less and we won't have to worry about organize another day out with the whole family. With Michael it all will be different, of course." Robert sighed, just a hint of sorrow in his voice.

"You won't receive complaints from me." Rosamund chuckled. "I'll have to meet James one less time." She grinned and they both shared a quick laugh. "Now, will you take me to meet my handsome nephew, or will you just find another excuse to keep me away from the nursery? I haven't even seen Cora, and-" A double knock on the door made them both startle and sigh. They knew what was coming.

In the matter of seconds, without any invitation from Rosamund or Robert – despite it being Cora's bedroom – the door squealed open, revealing James Crawley, their cousin, boasting a quite irritating smile.

"Roz, are you quite ready?" He asked impatiently.

"What for, cousin?" Rosamund sighed, without even bothering to look at him, pressing her lips to Mary's soft hair as she rocked her.

"You'll be on the second carriage with me, my wife and little Patrick." He explained.

Both Robert and Rosamund had always hated how he'd named his son after their father, just to prove that he and his family were rather better than a half American heir. But he had clearly failed when Michael arrived. Still he didn't miss a chance to show off his son whenever possible. After all, her was a fine blond boy, entirely British and – apparently – much more healthy than Robert's son.

"You said it yourself, James, it's the second carriage, so it'll leave last." Rosamund spoke slowly, empathizing every word. "We still have time. Besides, I would like to pay a visit to Michael." She threw an eloquent glance toward Robert, calling for help. It was already enough to spend a whole carriage ride with that nasty family. If she could escape him for just a minute longer, she would be happy.

"How lovely." James smiled with a horrible grimace. "I'd come, too, but unfortunately Myrtle is waiting for me in the carriage. I came here because little Patrick has asked for you."

"How is that possible, James?" Rosamund blurted out in the loudest whisper she could manage without startling Mary with her rising rage toward James and his insinuation. "That petulant child of yours doesn't even know that I exist!" She scoffed. "And all of the sudden-"

"Rosamund!" Robert warned, an embarrassed grin upon his lips. "Don't be hard on cousin James."

"My, my, cousin Rosamund, you grew bitter with age." James teased, looking quite unaffected by her words. "Still no heir for Mr. Painswick's realm?"

"Oh, you-" Rosamund clenched her jaw, all her rage dying inside her body when her brother touched her forearm for support.

"I'm just teasing, dear." James chuckled, shaking his head, looking rather satisfied. Then, when the tension had eased, he offered her his arm. "Shall we? I promise I won't get on your nerves."

"I doubt it." Rosamund replied coldly, but she accepted his offer. Otherwise her mother would be utterly displeased about it. She set Mary down in her crib with care, then kissed her brother on the cheek. "Please say hello to Cora for me, I'll salute her properly once in the church."

"Of course. Please, try to stay put." Robert warned her in a low voice. "You know that getting you mad is his goal.."

"I'll try." Rosamund nodded with a roll of her eyes and attempted a sincere smile before leaving with James.

Robert sighed, sharing his sister's opinion about that ghastly man. In a certain sense, he was happy that Michael had been born male so that James and his son wouldn't have to spend so much time at Downton. He was so irritatingly sure of himself, even now that he had an heir, just because his Patrick was normal.. If only Robert could prove James wrong, and quickly.

Robert sighed, shaking his head to clear his silly thoughts when he heard Mary fussing in her cradle. He immediately ran to her, scooping up his daughter and holding her tightly as he tried to calm her down.

"What's the matter, my darling?" He questioned, kissing her forehead and trying to lull her but without results. "You're hungry, my dear, aren't you?" Robert nodded to himself, tucking the blanket more securely to her tiny body. "We have some time before we need to leave, let's pay your lovely mama a visit, shall we?"

* * *

Robert paced slowly around the hallway, taking his time to reach the nursery, even if it was quite near Cora's room. He was always rather reluctant to go in there since it had been selected as Michael's day room and settled accordingly. The normal curtains had been replaced with heavy fabric kept in place by several knots all over, along with a crib where he could take naps when he wanted to, a rocking chair, toys and loads of candles. It felt cramped and it gave Robert the creeps.

Robert much more liked meeting his son in the bedroom, at least in the evening when the light couldn't hurt him. Frankly, he didn't know how Cora and O'Connor could bear to stay in the nursery that long. Robert was rather content to take care of Mary for most of the day, carrying her around as he accomplished his duties, so that the baby could get used to the house from her father's arms.

He'd learnt how do to a lot with his baby, something he never dreamed of. Day after day, he realized that he would be the first one, along with Cora, of course, to discard the idea of a nanny even if his mother or father suggested it.

For at least three years, they would do just fine without a tutor. By then, they would need an educator for both children, unless Cora had other ideas. But now wasn't the time to think about such matters. There were so many wonderful years ahead to enjoy their children before having to face their inevitable growth.

Robert balanced Mary in one arm as he knocked on the nursery's door, waiting patiently for instructions. He leaned closer to the wood, smiling when he heard giggles and Cora proposing to play hide and seek, so that the boy could escape the sudden light without much strain. It had been his idea. He certainly didn't want the child to be fearful once he grew up, having eventually healed. So they just had to make it a game. It seemed to work thus far.

"Come in." Cora said, still with a playful voice.

Robert obeyed, wearing a broad smile as he entered. He waited as his eyes adjusted to the dim light coming only from the mantel and a lonely candle. In the middle of the room, toys and discarded cardboard letters brightened a small area on the carpet.

"It's almost time, my darling." Robert informed, bouncing his daughter gently, his heart constricting slightly. He just wanted to leave the room but he felt guilty nevertheless because that nasty feeling prevented him from spending much time with his Michael. It couldn't be helped, though. "If you could manage five minutes to feed Mary so she should be fine for a while, then we'll be ready to go."

"Pass her over, dear." Cora smiled brightly, stretching her arm without lifting from her spot on the floor. She'd been clearly playing with Michael while O'Connor sewed in the rocking chair by the mantel. He wondered from how long they'd been there. His wife needed a break. "Robert?" she called, expectantly.

"Why don't you come in our bedroom? You need to get your shawl, first. You might get chilly once in the church." Robert proposed, smiling gleefully when he spotted Michael spying shyly on him from behind the closet. He looked like he'd grown more, but he couldn't be sure. Still his blond hair now almost completely covered his brow, shadowing his unique eyes.

"Can't I just feed her here?" Cora sighed, rising to her knees before standing up and brushing her skirts with intent.

Robert considered the idea for a moment, watching as the maid stood up as well to let her mistress free access to the rocking chair where she usually fed the baby when in the nursery. However, the soft jingle of the clock said it was time to get ready.

"We'll be late, my darling." Robert said softly, smiling a little when she finally gave up, and knelt down just to say goodbye to Michael.

"Come here, my prince, give your mama and papa a big kiss. I promise we won't be long." She cooed, partially lying since they would be busy for most part of the morning, probably coming back home early afternoon.

Robert knelt down as well, his brain having its usual trouble in tracking the boy's fast movements. Michael ran confidentially toward his mother, squeezing her with strength before smacking a kiss onto her cheek. Robert could only see his chubby arms as his son hugged him, wrapping his neck with a stranglehold. He feared his strength like he feared his ability to walk and run. Robert he would have feared him even more, or at least been made him utterly uncomfortable if he'd started to articulate his first words – since he looked like a toddler ready to do so – as Cora had predicted.

Robert kissed his brow only an instant before O'Connor called him. The boy waddled back in the darkness again. He realized he hadn't been able to decently see his son in days.

"We'll be back as soon as possible." Robert reassured her, well knowing that she was hesitant to leave Michael so long for the first time, at such early age, despite O'Connor being with him the whole time..

"Yes, I know. But I feel so guilty leaving him here." Cora nodded quietly, her eyes never leaving Michael and her maid sitting together by the fire as she slipped through the door unnoticed, Robert in tow.

As soon as they exited the nursery, a sense of relief came upon Robert with a delightful wave. The same happened to Cora, because it was the like the feeing they had early in the morning, when Michael left their room – in which he slept every night – to reach the nursery for the rest of the day.

He felt terribly guilty for feeling so tense and nervous around his boy, perhaps because of his eyes, his look, his uniqueness... yet every time Robert tried to reason with himself, he couldn't help but feel that way.

Robert had tried to speak with his wife about this sensation but she denied him. Unfortunately for her, Cora had never been good at lying, especially not to him.

"Robert, I was thinking..." Cora's sweet voice reached his ears like the chirp of a little bird. He immediately turned to her, smiling at the sight of her rearranging the top of her dress so she could nurse a pretty hungry Mary, whose closed little fists were furiously waving in the air. Her fussing only quieted when her lips finally leaned onto her mama's warm skin.

"Yes, dear?" He questioned, charmed by her gentle rocking while his hands, almost working on their own, folded his wife's shawl.

She looked a little lost, like she had been thinking a lot about something and then suddenly lost every good reason to sustain her thesis.

"Maybe we should hire a wet nurse...?" Cora said in a small voice, without any emotion.

"What? Why?" Robert's eyebrow raised in surprise.

"Well," she sighed, lowering her eyes as she chewed her lip. "I think it's for the best. I'm so tired, Robert, you know? I can't take care of Mary while I'm with Michael, the girl needs to conduct a normal life. And-"

"We're doing just fine, Cora." Robert replied "She needs you, you know."

"But I can't put Michael off for that." Cora stated, quite irritated.

"Cora, my darling, what are you talking about?" he inquired, shocked at first. He'd surely misunderstood her words. Otherwise, he couldn't explain her abrupt change of opinion. Only a few days ago, they were discussing how beautiful it was for them to take care of their children by themselves, and now...

"Michael is my- _our_ priority." She slowly stated, nodding at each word as if she was trying to convince herself as she spoke. "Mary... Mary's just needy. You'll spoil her."

"Cora, do you even listen to yourself?" Robert cried out, maybe a little too loud, for the baby had fussed even though she was within her mother's embrace.

"Well, if you don't agree, I'll just manage between the two of them, of course." Cora mumbled beneath her breath, somewhat hurt and confused.

"Cora, nursing Mary every two hours won't steal any of your time with Michael." Robert argued, stepping closer to her and leaning his hand to her bare shoulder. It was cold as ice. She didn't seem to mind, unlike his daughter, who had just begun to cry softly, done with the feeding much earlier than usual.

"I can't be there for the both of them as you'd like for me to do." Cora whispered flatly, rearranging her dress neatly as Mary curled straight up against her mama's lap.

"You're doing it wonderfully, Cora. Mary needs to be with you, too." He repeated firmly, really hoping he could convince her. Still, the reason for her ideas was quite obscure and mysterious.

"If you say so, Robert." Cora shrugged her shoulders before balancing the baby into one arm and standing up. "But I'd much prefer to focus on Michael and have someone to take care of Mary, just for your knowledge." She continued with a long, insufferable sigh, without crossing sight with him.

"Cora, but-"

"Milord?" There was a soft knocking coming from the door. That profound voice belonged to Carson, the butler.

They both immediately fell silent.

"Yes, Carson?"

"Miss O'Connor told me I could find you and milady here." He paused and Robert could almost see him straightening his back and joining his hands behind it as he spoke. "The carriage is awaiting, sir."

"Thank you, Carson." Robert replied politely and waited patiently as the butler's calm steps faded across the hall before turning to his wife with a quizzical look.

"I'll take Mary to the nursery so O'Connor can dress her." Cora informed him, turning the handle with hurried steps.

Deep inside him, Robert knew – even if he wanted so much to be wrong – it was because she was eager to go back to the room where Michael was. In the first days after giving birth, she couldn't stand being away from Mary, now the centre of her universe was the boy. It all changed so quickly that he could hardly keep pace.

"Cora I wish you'd talked to me earlier about your idea of a nanny-"

"Robert, we're late." She cut him off, already pacing in the hallway. When she turned back to speak again, he saw that she looked already much more tired than she did a few instants ago, and his heart clenched. "We'll discuss the matter once we get back home. And I can't wait to do so."

* * *

A storm is brewing? With the big day is coming ahead, will everything run smoothly as they all hope?  
See you soon with the seventh chapter " _Celebration_ ", guys! Love ya!

If you have time, **please** **leave a feedback** , thank you! :)


	7. celebration

Nda: Hello guys, how are you? Hope you're fine and enjoying October. I wish I could give you a more spooky chapter but, well, mysterious will be just fine. Right?

To those who reviewed - hillevi, Dream of Ragtime, Countess of Cobert & witchoesed \- big hugs!  
Praise to the wonderful beta **CountessCora**.

Ready for this carriage ride? Please keep your hands and arms inside the vehicle and remain seated at all times.  
K I'll stop :') _Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter 7 – Celebration

There were flags, happy choruses, groups of children that chased the carriages, shouting gleefully as the Lords and the Ladies greeted them with broad smiles and waves.

Cora had loved that tempestuous sea of white flags, along with the red and blue ones that welcomed her on her wedding day. She loved the fact that now that it was for her daughter maybe even more than her wedding. She'd always thought that the parade along every principal street of the town would be a waste of time, a little pretentious, to be fair. But now that she was there, sitting in front of Papa as he held Mary tightly, she couldn't help but feel good, happy and loved. Her heart had swollen, the anxieties being erased. She even had to admit that Robert had been right when he told her that a little break would benefit her.

Now that the sun was warming her skin through the brim of her white hat, she understood that she was acting a little too obsessively over Michael. It made her feel guilty now because she'd neglected her baby girl at this expense. Mary didn't deserve that. She was a pretty, tranquil child who only needed her mother close by and Cora had denied her this benefit.

She smiled tenderly when the girl yawned and frowned, curling into her grandfather's chest in search of shelter from the bothering sunbeams. Then she breathed a long sigh, she turned to Robert, clutching to his arm with intent as she snuggled – still keeping an appearance of decency since the complaining Violet was sitting right in front of them – to his side.

"I must give you my apologies, Robert." Cora whispered sincerely, low enough to keep her words from the in-laws' ears, but loud enough for her husband to hear over the rhythmic trotting of the horses, carriage wheels and the increasing shouts of the people around.

"Cora..." He smiled tenderly, brushing his hand over her gloved one.

"I had so much... anger this morning, I just don't know why." She sighed "Mary's such a sweet baby. I do want to take care of her like we did until now. In fact, I won't neglect either of you anymore."

"I'm glad to hear that." Robert nodded with a soft chuckle "And I'm sure Mary will be glad, too." He added, leaning a little closer to her, still remaining within the limit of decency.

"I guess I needed some fresh air to remind me of all this beauty around us." She considered, lowering her eyes for a moment.

"We'll manage,darling." Robert reassured her, showing off one of his best smiles when a group of people started to wave insistently in his direction. "We've been through too much to let this challenge defeat us."

When the carriage turned the corner, the whole family took in a long breath. The tour around the village was over. Now only the ride to the church was awaiting them. Surely the people had gathered around the building to celebrate their entrance and the upcoming christening of one of the youngest Crawleys. But it was the last crowd through which they had to sit.

"Cora, dear, would you mind?" Patrick asked quite frantically, stretching his arms as he tried to pass the girl over to his daughter-in-law.

"Of course not, papa." The woman smiled, happily holding her baby tightly to her chest.

"I'll take her back once in the church." The count assured, fixing his jacket with intent.

Cora knew he loved her granddaughter dearly, but it was so hard for him – and for Violet, too – to stand for a long time with a baby, a creature who was so hard to discuss and even more challenging to handle and comprehend. They'd send their children to the constant care of nannies and tutors, something that Cora couldn't bear to think of, but she couldn't blame their hesitancy, either. It was as if they had a fixed amount of time to spend with children, beyond which was simply impossible to go any further, hence that time had to be constantly monitored.

Cora found it incredibly amusing. She was also happy because she could spend some time with Mary alone, something she felt she'd needed to do for too long.

"We'll be all right, won't we, Robert?" Cora asked him, her eyes looking down at the girl who was on the verge of falling asleep into her mama's hold, more serene than she'd never been in days.

Robert smiled and nodded slowly, brushing with the back of his finger on the little fist emerging from the blanket, now eagerly clutching Cora's thumb.

"Of course we will be, darling."

* * *

More than one hour later, Mary Josephine Crawley exited St. Michael church within the secure hold of her grandfather. The ceremony had been grand, much more like a king's wedding then a baby's christening, even if that child was indeed a sort of queen for the people of Downton and a princess to ones of Ripon and Thirsk.

Mary fell asleep shortly after the pastor had taken word and luckily she remained quiet during the whole time. She only cried once, for few minutes, but then everybody congratulated with Cora and Robert for such a well behaved newborn, sending along so many wishes for a speed recovery for Michael.

Oh, if only they knew the truth. Each time someone mentioned the boy, both Cora and Robert felt their hearts shrink with guilt for the lies they had to tell about their son. He wasn't ill, exactly, he had this special condition and he was... out of the ordinary. If he was indeed ill, would he someday recover?

"Stay still!"

Cora took a small breath, forcing herself to smile and focus on what was happening at the present rather than Michael, probably peacefully asleep in the crib by the fire.

She smiled when she heard the trigger of the camera blasting. Almost immediately, her daughter softly crying due to the unexpected noise.

"How did I look?" Robert asked her impatiently, pulling the tail of his jacket to erase some wrinkles on the fabric.

Cora didn't answer until Patrick handed the baby over to her, happy that his daughter-in-law was there to console Mary – the only thing that worked infallibly with the child when she was upset – and he walked away for a quick stroll with Violet, gladly following the photographer's suggestion to take a little break.

"You looked very handsome." The woman giggled, slowly rocking the baby as she spoke. "I think that this picture of you three will be beautiful."

"Not as much as ours." Robert replied, mocking her movements from behind her back "Us two and this little banshee." He cooed, caressing the baby's soft hair as she slowly stopped crying.

"I think she's tired, Robert." Cora mumbled, settling the girl on her shoulder and gently patting gently her small back. "She has been a good girl, far too much already."

"Oh I agree, darling." He nodded. "Some more photos and then we'll be free to go home." Robert leaned down to kiss his daughter's brow. When he rose up, he couldn't help but giggle at her little frown. "It's a deal, my pet?"

"Milord?"

"Coming." Robert nodded at the photographer, leading his wife under the tree that had been the background for the previous picture. He loosely embraced his wife and waited for instructions, smiling and trying to keep his pose as a small cloud rose from the machine. Mary only fidgeted a little.

"One more with the grandparents." The man called and Cora carefully passed the girl to Violet.

She sighed gravely, leaning into her husband's hold as they watched Patrick and Violet being immortalized with their baby. Even if Robert was observing with a proud grin, she felt a passing sensation cloaking her whole body with a dreadful, melancholic feeling.

"I wonder when this will happen with Michael." She whispered, her voice so slim that it disappeared with a breath of light air.

"Soon, darling, I hope." Robert sighed, his mind drifting back to the boy at home.

"What if his age will never match his appearance? What if the sun keeps hurting him?" Cora asked anxiously, looking desperate and hopeless.

He felt the same way now. Every time he focused on that, Robert didn't think of the source of Michael's strangeness. What more could he do? Like any other father, he could only worry and hope for the best. Robert couldn't simply accept that there was something terribly wrong with his son and heir, a child who had been through a lot, too much before he was even born.

"We'll find a solution, my darling, we always do." Robert leaned down to kiss her temple, without even checking to see if his mama was looking in their direction "For now, I suggest we enjoy our children and leave the titles and the duties to papa and mama." He tightened his hold on her, making her smile and then giggle lightly as the cold breeze hit them without any pain, for their embrace was everything they need to feel warm.

"Robert?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Robert, would it be terrible if we walk home now, just we two?" He turned slowly to his wife, who smiling in trepidation. After all, they hadn't spend a single hour alone together since the birth of the children. Even a few minutes, strolling by her side as the walked back home on a special day like this, was the sweetest thought.

"Not at all, my dear. I'll just leave Mary to papa." Robert chuckled, leaning to her ear conspiratorially. "I bet he will instruct the coach driver to fly back to the Abbey to drop the baby in O'Connor's arms as soon as possible."

* * *

Although it was February, the road home was as delightful as it could be.

When the carriage that held his parents and daughter thundered off to the village toward the Abbey, a flock of people gathered behind it, cheering and waving, unconsciously diverting attention from the young couple.

Cora and Robert had seized the opportunity to sneak away, taking the road that would lead them home in the most alluring tranquillity of which they could've dreamt.

A few birds were chirping and the air was filled with the smell of earth. It was cold and it tickled their nostrils every time they took a breath. There weren't many flowers around, the road was clear and the grass on its edge glistened with frozen dew. It was all so magical and special. Since they hadn't been able to stroll hand in hand in months, that neither of them could feel the coldness of the day. They walked much more slowly than was needed just to savour each other's company as long as possible.

They'd just crossed the black gates of Downton when they both realized they hadn't talked since they'd started their stroll, communicating with smiles, glances and kisses the whole time. Now when they exchanged kisses, Robert picked up a small flower for her, a pink four-leaf clover flower, which Cora now gripped by its stem, quickly spinning it between her fingers as they walked.

"I was thinking about something, dear." Robert spoke happily, showing her to one of the closest benches, one of their favourites, under a big three that shielded them from the sun. Often it had been their respite in the rain.

"Tell me." Cora asked curiously, glad that they had the chance to stop and spend some more time together."

"We should go on a little vacation, I think." Robert sighed, carefully speaking to try to anticipate her reaction "To focus on ourself and ease our minds."

They both turned when they heard a soft neigh and stood silently for a moment. The stable boys helped the head grooms detach the stallions from the coach, a meticulous operation that was conducted in the small area before the stables. It was a long procedure because of all the harnesses. Since they had almost done, the arrival of the earl, the countess and little Mary had taken place quite some time ago. When the noise disappeared, they both turned again, facing each other and tangling their cold fingers together to cope with the chilly temperature.

"A vacation?" Cora frowned "You think that's a good idea?" She questioned, unsure if she was asking her husband or just thinking out loud. There was nothing more pleasant than the thought of a little time with Robert alone, but there were also all of their duties, mama, papa, the children... Would all of those people who were relying on them let Robert and Cora leave? Even if it was for a couple of days? Would it be proper?

"Darling, look at yourself." He whispered with a tender smile, ghostly brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers. "You've been out of the house for two hours and you flourished. It's a fact that you need some time off and I... I need some time alone with my lovely wife."

Cora smiled, fighting so hard not to give him a positive answer right away, although she wanted to scream yes without a second thought.

"Robert, darling, I would leave with you right now," she said sincerely, gripping his hand and slightly shifting on the bench to be closer to him, "but what about the children? They're so little and Mary needs to nurse often. Michael will throw tantrums. We can't leave them behind, I would worry."

"You're right." Robert pursed his lips, nodding as he considered her words. "We'll take them with us, both of them. In two weeks, to celebrate our first anniversary." He broadly smiled, incapable of stopping floods of thoughts from coming to his mind that he just had to share with Cora. "We take my valet, O'Connor, the children. We can leave on the early night train so there will be neither any dangers nor too many curious eyes around. What do you say?"

"Well, I don't know!" She started to giggle, the idea of some time far from the abbey and her duties so sweet to her ear. "Where would you want to go?"

"Somewhere near, so that the train ride won't be too long for the children. Whitley Bay, perhaps. I always wanted to take you there." He paused, his mind already wandering to the beach and the relaxing time with his wife listening to seagulls. It wasn't the high season, of course, and they couldn't enjoy the place at its fullest but he would have taken Cora there in the summer, if she liked. It was a promise. "We'll arrive late at night, so we can move straight to the hotel and keep Michael safe." He mumbled, trying to organize the basics. "Your maids needs a treat, too. Our son will have some fun, it'll be restful and the sea air will be good for Mary. It's going to bring everyone benefits." He bit briefly his lip, blinking his eyes in expectation. "Please say yes."

Cora stood silent for a while, thinking what her mother-in-law would say. But then she most certainly was not her mother-in-law. What she wanted the most was their children's happiness, as well,as Robert's. No one would have tolerated the way she had been lately; obsessed, out of reach of everyone but Michael. Her whole family deserved much more.

She smiled, leaning comfortably into his embrace as she nodded, incapable of suppressing that large smile that now was painted on her lips, reddened from the cold.

* * *

Ten minutes later, they were about to walk through the door of the house, eager to plan everything and inform mama and papa about their little vacation. They were also chatting closely about Robert's childhood and his favourite spots he'd found with Rosamund, such as the rocks he'd picked up and painted with his sister, the same stone Patrick used as a paperweight on his desk.

How lovely to make Whitley Bay their traditional summer destination! How lovely to show their children where Robert had usually spent the hot months as a boy. In a matter of years, Robert and Cora would to take them overseas to show them where their mother had done the same.

Robert was busy telling her silly things about the what he'd read about activities Americans did on their beaches. She told him about the nighttime swims and bonfires that had just become popular when she left for England when Carson welcomed them, taking their coats with a profound bow.

"The guests are in the library, milord." Carson said, folding the clothes upon his arm with an elegant gesture.

"Thank you, Carson." Robert smiled, sighing when the butler left them alone.

Of course a little party was organized after the christening, a very small one just for the closest members of the family, very similar to the tea hour. Cora couldn't be happier at the thought of being spared an enormous dinner or luncheon when she just wanted to fly off with her mind toward the sea, rather than answering tedious – and sometimes embarrassing – questions from old aunts about the twins. Even worse, she had to receive unwanted suggestions on how to be a better mother over and over again.

"Robert, dear, do you think we have a couple of minutes to check on the children first?" Cora begged, hanging from his arm, making her intention on not moving a foot toward the library known. "Just for a quick hello?"

"All right." He gently allowed it, taking advantage of their little detour to speak about their upcoming vacation a little more. "We better wait for tonight to discuss our plans with my parents." Robert chuckled, fixing his hair that had been scattered because of the hat. "So we can use some of Rosamund's support." He paused and turned to his wife. "Don't you think?" Robert inquired, but his smile faded instantly when he noticed her darkened expression, glassy eyes that were fixed on the carpet as her fingers were frozen on the bow under her chin, halfway loosened. She was breathing gently but with her mouth open, forcing her lungs to exhale slowly. "Cora? Are you all right, darling?"

"Yes." She mumbled, but she didn't quite sound like herself. "Yes." She repeated, blinking. This time, she attempted a smile, turning slightly to face her husband. Her face didn't comfort him much at all.

"Are you sure?" He questioned, raising his eyebrow as she gripped her hand, gently guiding her toward the stairs as his other hand touched the small of her back.

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just-" Cora swallowed sharply, shaking her head. "The temperature difference that made me feel a little bit dizzy, that's all."

"Well, if you're sure..." he frowned, reassured when her cheeks gained a familiar shade of pink and her eyes became glimmering again.

"I am, darling." She nodded, smiling encouragingly as they approached the first step of the stairs. "I miss the children and I can't wait to plan our trip." She added, her voice light and enthusiastic.

"Let's not waste any more time, then." He grinned, almost dragging her as they climbed the steps. He was pulling her by her hand, teasing about how slow she was and she laughed back, complaining about her skirts and frozen toes.

They were giggling loud, their hearts light and happy in anticipation of the future. He had a clear head and he was running like he hadn't done in ages. Robert wanted to go on forever with his wife beside him.

They were almost there, at the top, when he felt something pulling him back, forcing him to stop, erasing the smile from his lips.

"Cora?" He asked again, this time he was frightened. Where was his happy, refreshed wife? Her beautiful pink cheeks? Her smiling lips, the gorgeous glow in her eyes? "What- how-" He muttered, hurriedly steadying her when she gripped hard on the handrail, leading her safe and sound on the top floor.

"I'm not sure." She whispered and Robert was almost sure that every time she blinked, a black shadow underneath her eyes became darker and darker. She looked like she'd never left the house, as if the whole weight she carried was coming back, all at once, tiring her beyond imagination.

"Cora, I think we must seriously consider-" Robert's mouth froze with his whole body when he heard a distant scream. It wasn't a baby scream, though, nor a toddler one... that cry belonged to an adult woman. Robert didn't even have a chance to ask his wife if she'd heard that too when Cora's room's door flew open for an instant. It had been slammed so strongly that the door bounced back, closing again by itself. "O'Connor?"

They both watched with astonishment as the maid ran away from the room, her face a mask of terror.

"I'm leaving!" She cried repeatedly, as if those were the only words she knew. "I'm leaving, now!"

"O'Connor? What are you talking about?" Robert thundered, catching her by the arm when she almost crashed into them. "Is there something wrong with the children?"

Evaleen's eyes opened wide. She looked like she wanted to scream yes with all her being.

"I'm sorry, milord, I cannot stay in this house one minute longer." She sobbed, pulling away so hard that he had to let her go in order to not trip and dragging Cora with him. It all seemed so absurd "I'm leaving!"

* * *

Well, fill the reviews with your assumption about what will happen (please?) just kidding, anyway, hope you liked it and I promise I'm working already on the next chapter which is " _Arrivals and departures_ ". Curious? I hope so! See ya!

If you have time, **please** **leave a feedback** , thank you! :)

Oh, just a little spam before leaving.. make sure to join the #CobertWeek ! Byeee


End file.
